The Unforgiven II
by BewareTheWalkers
Summary: The Executioner was sure that she defeated Negan in that satellite station, but their enemies don't stop coming. Now taken prisoner by Negan, the Dixons must find a way out and find a way to convince their group, as well as others that they meet, to join the Avengers in their effort to rebel against Negan and the Saviors.
1. Prologue: Say Goodbye

_**Prologue: Say Goodbye** _

_**~Bucky~**_

The graves were empty, but we still put three boards as headstones where they would be. Natasha and Enid worked together to paint the names of the fallen. Enid painted "Josh" and "Matt," while Natasha's was a bit more personal. Under Clary's name, she painted, "Teach me how to say goodbye."

Clary always had trouble saying goodbye.

Days turned into weeks. Two weeks passed before the survivor's guilt took Alycia. Her girlfriend, Taylor, found her. She had slit her wrists and bled to death in a bathtub. Alycia bit Taylor before she was put down, and Taylor died the following day from the fever.

Three new graves became five.

Not including the dead from the invasions.

Their names were added to the memorial wall. Clary's was painted where Glenn's once was. Glenn was the one that painted it. Alexandria was silent now, bleak ever since she died. Everyone here saw Clary as part of the Avengers, as a hero. Her death hit everyone hard, those that she loved the hardest.

I stopped sleeping, spending most nights walking the streets. I always ended up in the same place. It never took me long to find my way there, and I spent the rest of the night sitting at Clary's grave.

Every day, I walked to Clary's grave. Most of the time I was alone. Occasionally, I ran into Daryl. I ran into others visiting other graves. One day, a month after, I ran into Glenn. It was the first I ever saw him at her grave, even though I knew that he had been there before. I glanced at the graves of Alycia and Taylor, the grass already beginning to grow since they were buried two weeks before. Then, I look up at the sky as the last of the sun dipped below the horizon. I said, "It's been a month already. I still can't believe she's gone."

"We're naming her Clary," Glenn said, then glanced over his shoulder at me. "If it's a girl, we're naming her Clary. Well, Clarissa. Clary for short."

"She'd like that, I think," I said as Glenn turned back to the grave.

"I'm worried about Carl," Glenn told me without looking up from Clary's grave. "He's been falling into a depression. I'm scared he'll hurt himself. I don't want to find him like Alycia."

"Was he like this when his mom died?" I asked.

Glenn shook his head. "The only thing he cared about then was Judith. He took care of her, always has. Beth… Beth helped him out. Rick, he lost it. I mean, you remember how he screamed at Tyreese and Sasha. But Carl?" Glenn sighed. "He grew up real fast that first year. Out on the road, then shooting his own mother before she could turn. After Lori died, he was… cold, I guess. As I said, the only thing he cared about was Judith. Now? He doesn't even acknowledge her. It was never like this."

"I'll talk to him," I promised Glenn, resting my hand on his shoulder. "He's got me worried, too."

"Thank you, Bucky," Glenn said, looking up at me.

I gave him a nod, turning and walking back towards the house. Michonne was in the living room, reading when I entered. She looked up from her book, pausing for a moment before saying, "Glenn said he was heading over. You talk to him?"

"I asked him about Carl," I replied. "He upstairs?"

"Their room," Michonne answered, then paused to correct herself. "His. His room."

"Thanks, 'chonne."

"Tell him supper will be ready in half an hour. He's eating, even if I have to force feed him."

I suddenly got a mental image of Michonne trying to feed Carl whatever she was making for dinner that night. "I'll hold him down," I offered.

Michonne gave me a small smile, but I couldn't return it as I climbed the stairs. I stopped at the first door on the right, knocking on the open door. "Hey, kid."

I got no reply, not even a glance in my direction.

"Can I come in? Carl?"

"Yeah," he said softly, scooting over on the bed as I sat next to him.

"Michonne wanted me to tell you dinner will be ready in half an hour," I told him. "She also threatened to get me to hold you down while she force feeds you if you don't eat."

Carl snorted in amusement, the slight grin fading as he looked down at his hands. "So you talked to Glenn," he said.

"How did you—"

"The door was open. I could hear you talking to Michonne."

"He's worried about you, kid," I said. "We all are. Glenn thinks you're going to try to hurt yourself."

"Why would I?" Carl questioned. "_She_ hurt me enough for the both of us."

I clenched my jaw at the harshness of Carl's voice. He's bitching about Clary being gone as if he's the only one hurting from it. Those two might've been a couple, but they weren't as close as Clary and I were.

"You're not the only one that misses her, Carl," I snapped. "I don't think I've seen Daryl in three days because all he does is take watch on the minuscule chance that she'll walk back in that gate! Glenn and Maggie, they're naming their kid after Clary. And me?" I scoffed as I shook my head at Carl. "You don't know, kid, and you don't _want_ to know. But don't you _dare_ act like you're the only one hurting!"

"She never said goodbye, and now she's gone."

"No one did!" I cried, getting to my feet. "No one said goodbye because we all bet on Clary outlasting us all! But she went out there and she fucking died because of those fucking idiots that should've been in the ground the day this thing started! She didn't deserve to die out there alone! Do you know how many times I've wished that I had been the one out there?! How quickly I would give up my life so that Clary would still be here?! But I wasn't there 'cause I was too damn scared of Hydra to keep the oath I swore!"

I turned and walked out the door, jumping over the railing before I was halfway down the stairs. I didn't look at Michonne as I walked out the door, running down the street as I searched for Daryl. I saw Stark halfway down the street, calling, "Stark! Have you seen Daryl?"

"Yeah, I just talked to him," Stark said as I stopped beside him. "Poor guy's still up on watch. He refuses to leave."

"He stayed up there until he had heatstroke last week," I said. "And he would've stayed if Steve didn't drag him down and to Denise's."

"Maybe you can talk him down," Stark tried.

"Well, there's no promises, considering Glenn just asked me to do the same to Carl and I gave the kid hell for his pity party."

"Luckily for you, Daryl's not the type to have pity parties. He's the stubborn as shit type that stays on watch until he has heatstroke. So get him down before we have to bury the other Dixon."

I left Stark in the street, heading towards the gate. Just as he said, Daryl was on watch, eyes on the road outside of Alexandria. I climbed up, and Daryl finally turned to me when I stopped next to him. "You here to get me to come down?" Daryl questioned, then turned back to the road. "Not happening, Bucko."

"That's not why I'm here," I said. I wrapped my arms around Daryl, hugging him tightly as I squeezed my eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Daryl. I'm so sorry. It should've been me."


	2. 1: Mnyama Ingwe YaseMelika

_**Chapter 1: ****Mnyama Ingwe YaseMelika** _

_**~Bucky~**_

Abraham was dead, killed by the Executioner.

Glenn was dead, killed by Negan.

Negan took Clary, and he took Daryl, too. Clary asked me to do one thing, to take care of the others, especially Daryl. I failed. I failed, and they were dead, and Daryl was taken as a prisoner of war.

_Why did she have to make the deal?_

I asked myself this as we raced for the Hilltop, trying to get Maggie there before we lost a third person today. Or fifth, depending on if the Dixons are killed.

_Why did she have to make the deal?_

Maybe if Negan got both of us, he would've let the others go. They wouldn't be gone. Sasha wouldn't have lost another lover. Maggie wouldn't be widowed at twenty-something. Carl wouldn't have lost Clary again. Daryl wouldn't be carrying the guilt of Glenn's death, because if I know him, he's blaming himself for it.

_I should've fought for them. For her. You fool! Why didn't you fight harder for her?!_

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

They separated Daryl and I the moment we pulled into the factory serving as the Saviors' base. "What is this place?" I inquired, looking out the window before back to Negan. "It have a name?"

"Yeah, your new home," Negan said, grinning. "Welcome to the Sanctuary."

"'The Sanctuary,'" I repeated.

"You're coming with me," Negan said, grabbing my arm as I exited the truck behind him. I watched as Dwight dragged Daryl off in the opposite direction, wanting to reach for him even though I knew I couldn't. I turned away, following Negan. He dragged me with him to the walkway that overlooked the warehouse floor, dozens of Saviors below. As soon as they saw Negan, they quieted, kneeling before him.

"Look at that!" Negan laughed, ridiculously happy. "Look at it, Clary!" He turned to me, grasping my chin in one hand and forcing me to look at him as he leaned down. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Did you see it, dear Executioner? Do you see the world I rule? And you get to rule it with me!"

He dropped his hand from my chin, wrapping an arm around my waist as he pulled me to the railing. "Everyone!" he called. "I'd like to introduce someone special! This is the Executioner! She reports directly to me, and you report to her! She is my eyes and ears! The Executioner is Negan!"

_Oh, sweet Christmas, I'm fucked._

The Saviors erupted into cheers, Negan grinning. "Bucky," I whispered, my voice drowned out by the cheers. "Oh, Bucky, where are you? Where are you when I need you the most?"

* * *

_**~Bucky~**_

Jesus met us as we pulled into the Hilltop, understanding the gravity of the situation right away. He watched silently, hands clasped in front of him, as Steve carried Maggie to Harlan's, Sasha following closely beside him. Rick helped Rosita and Eugene carry Abraham's body out, while I took Glenn's on my own. Carl, Aaron, and Michonne tried to help, but I shook my head at them. I did everything I could to try to ignore the blood on my clothes from his head. I was the last person out, and when Jesus realized there was no one behind me, he paled. "Bucky," he said slowly. "Is… is her body in there?"

I didn't answer, unable to form any words. I walked away, following the three with Abraham's body to where we were burying them. "Bucky…" Jesus started, his voice trailing off as I walked away.

Rick, Rosita, and Eugene walked away after they put Abraham down, rejoining the others. I put Glenn down, sitting by his head. "I'm sorry, Glenn," I said softly. "I'm so sorry." My voice broke as the image of his death replayed in my head, the image of Clary's horrified and blood splattered face watching as her brother was murdered. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop him. And now, she might as well be dead."

"It was Negan," Jesus said from behind me, and I turned to find him standing there. "Negan did this. But what the hell happened?"

"He wanted us," I told him. "Clary did everything not to let him take me. He made her kill Abraham, tried to make her kill Glenn."

Jesus's eyes watered as he covered his mouth with his hands, and he quickly wiped them. "Negan has her? And Daryl?"

I nodded once, and Jesus offered me a hand. "C'mon. We should get to Barrington." I took it, letting him lead me into the mansion. "I just… I can't believe that she'd willingly go with him, even to save you."

"She made me activate _her_."

Jesus dropped my hand, turning to me. "You activated the Executioner?!"

"I _never_ wanted to!" I sobbed, sinking back onto a couch. "I should've fought harder for her!"

Jesus took a seat beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "There was nothing you could do," he said sadly. "You know that, right?"

"I should've done something."

There were footsteps in the parlor, but I hardly paid them any attention as I assumed it was one of my people. However, I knew it wasn't when an accented voice said, "You lost someone."

I looked up to see a man standing there. I immediately recognized him as T'Challa, the son of the former king of Wakanda, T'Chaka. _I guess he's king now, seeing as his father was killed._ T'Challa continued, "Someone important to you. Now you know how I felt, Winter Soldier."

"I didn't kill your father," I said as I tried to wipe my eyes, to no avail. The tears just kept flowing. "I was in Romania, getting ready to return to the States. I take it you followed me here."

"I came," T'Challa said, stepping towards Jesus and me, "chasing the man that killed my _baba._"

"I don't do that anymore," I pleaded, desperate to make T'Challa understand that I didn't kill his father. "Please, I didn't kill your father. Vienna wasn't me."

"And why should I believe you?"

"Because you have no other choice!"

Jesus placed a hand on my back, looking up at the man before us. "T'Challa," he said. "Go easy on him. Please, believe him. He really didn't kill your father. T'Challa, Negan just took some of the people he cares about, maybe _the most_. He lost people. They all did."

"Clary might as well be dead," I sobbed, burying my face in my hands.

"No, Bucky, we'll get her back," Jesus tried to assure me. "We will. We've done it before."

* * *

_**~T'Challa~**_

I didn't feel much in the mood to talk to anyone as I returned to the Kingdom, barely even saying hello to Alvaro as he opened the gate. I knew I had to, so I went straight to Ezekiel.

In Wakanda, I would've become king after my father's death. I preferred to serve as more of a protector, though. When I met Ezekiel, and when he learned that I was Prince T'Challa of Wakanda, he stepped aside to allow me to rule over the Kingdom. I simply told him that I would instead serve as his right-hand man and protect our community as the Black Panther.

Unfortunately, I wasn't strong enough to defend our Kingdom against the Saviors. Sure, I had the strength, speed, and agility of the Black Panther, as well as a suit made of vibranium; but there were simply too many Saviors.

I walked into the auditorium, Shiva growling when she heard the door opening but relaxing when she saw that it was me. "Prince T'Challa," King Ezekiel said. "You have returned. What news have you of our comrades, the Hilltop?"

"It's," I started, then paused with a sigh. "It's a very long story, your Majesty."

"Well, we have all the time in the world."

I climbed up on the stage, brushing my hand over Shiva's ears as I approached. "Ezekiel, this is something that you and I need to talk about."

Ezekiel seemed to understand that it was about the Saviors, so he said, "So be it. We shall speak in one hour. We have a guest arriving soon, and I do not want to frighten the fair maiden."

"Make it quick," I said as I took my place at Ezekiel's side. Jerry stood to Ezekiel's right, Shiva right beside her master on his left, and I stood just past Shiva. The auditorium door opened, Morgan wheeling in the grey-haired woman I had seen him arriving with the day prior.

"Well, here we are," Morgan said as he stopped the wheelchair in front of the stage. Shiva stood, growling, and the woman in the wheelchair stared in shock. "Yeah. I, uh, I forgot to say that Ezekiel has a tiger."

Shiva roared, and Ezekiel ran his hand over her back, commanding, "Shiva, enough. The fair maiden has been through a myriad of trials. They are our guests."

"Chill it up, S," Jerry hissed. "Chill it up!"

Ezekiel looked over at his main guardian. "Jerry, you are a faithful steward, but your words leave me pitch-kettled. I understand your concern, Shiva. You haven't met Carol. Nor have I. But if she is a friend of Morgan, we shall consider her a friend of the realm until proven otherwise."

"Carol," I said. "How are you feeling?"

Carol was still in shock from Shiva, so Morgan answered for her. "She's doing better, thanks to you and your people."

"Indeed," Ezekiel said. "It pleases me to see you up and about, Carol. I am King Ezekiel, and this is the Black Panther, Prince T'Challa. Welcome to the Kingdom." Carol's eyes never left Shiva as she paced in a circle, settling down beside Ezekiel. "You have been addressed by the king, yet you remain silent. Do I detect skepticism? Perhaps you think me mad. Perhaps you see this place as nothing more than a mirage. So, tell me… what _do_ you think of the Kingdom, Carol? What do you think of the king?"

A smile crossed Carol's face as she struggled to adjust to everything that was happening before her, finally saying, "I… I think you're amazing. It's amazing. And you, Prince T'Challa, well, I can't believe you're here. And your Sheba…"

"It's Shiva," Jerry corrected.

"Shiva," Carol repeated. "Amazing. I would be speechless if I wasn't already speaking. I don't know what the hell's going on in the most wonderful way."

Ezekiel chuckled as I said, "As Morgan is aware, we encourage those who find respite here to enjoy the fruits of our grandeur for as long as they like, so long as they contribute."

"Drink from the well, replenish the well," Ezekiel said. "Once you're healed, of course."

"Of course," Carol said. "All about the well."

"_Well _said," Jerry chimed in.

"Jerry," Ezekiel said.

I gave Jerry a side-eye before grinning and adding, "We care about the _well_being of our people here in the Kingdom."

"Prince T'Challa," Ezekiel sighed.

"What? That was funny."

"It was a _well-_timed joke," Jerry chimed in.

I glanced over at Ezekiel as he shook his head. "We've known Jerry since the beginning. We should've learned to expect his puns by now."

"We should have, but we haven't," Ezekiel said with a grin. "Ah! Where are my manners?" Ezekiel snapped his fingers at Jerry, then gestured to the fruit as Jerry took off to retrieve it. "Please, partake. We have magnificent apples, nectarines, pomegranates. All of it is grown right here inside the Kingdom."

Jerry presented the basket of fruit to Carol, declaring, "It's fruit time."

"I… I couldn't," Carol protested.

"Oh, come, now," Ezekiel argued. "At least, take a pomegranate."

"You know, I always found them too much trouble."

"Sweet fruit surrounded by bitter. They're something of a contradiction, but heaven for the effort."

"You can park some chocolate in front of me and watch it go bye-bye, but pomegranates? Just not for me, thanks."

"Well, if there's anything you want or need, just let us know," I told her.

"If you enjoy music, we have a guitarist whose talent brings tears to the eye," Ezekiel added. "And we have a small choir." Ezekiel glanced between Jerry and I. "And a couple of jesters, apparently."

"Thank you," Carol said. "All I need is some more rest… and maybe a hairbrush." Carol chuckled softly. "No one told me I'd be meeting royalty. Anyway, Your Majesty—I should call you 'Your Majesty,' right?"

"You can," Ezekiel told her.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Carol bowed her head. "It's a pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine, Carol. Be well."

Morgan moved to wheel Carol out of the auditorium, and I said, "I hope you feel better, Carol."

"Thank you, Prince T'Challa," Carol said, with a nod of her head. Morgan wheeled Carol away, and I waited until they were gone to turn to Ezekiel. "We need to have that talk. Now. It's about _more_ than just the Saviors."

Ezekiel seemed to realize what other group I was referring to, and he turned to Jerry. "Leave us," he commanded.

"I'll be within hollering distance," Jerry said and left with a nod.

Ezekiel looked up at me. "What happened?"

"The deal that Gregory made, it wasn't just that _one_ group like we all thought," I informed him. "There's more. More Saviors, more outposts. Negan is still out there. He's taken over another group. He killed two of theirs and took two more."

"But Hydra is still with us, yes?"

"Ezekiel, there is _no _Hydra. They were wiped out. The Executioner isn't there to take out another outpost. We're on our own now."

"So we continue to play along," Ezekiel decided. "That was our one chance to be free, and it didn't work. We'll continue to offer tribute to the Saviors, and we will act as though we had no part in the slaughter of their comrades. We _cannot_ risk the Saviors attacking the Kingdom."

* * *

_**~Negan~**_

"So… let me get this straight," I said, leaning forward against the table in the conference room. "Let me make sure I'm hearing this right, Gavin. Your men can't handle a little hiccup with the Kingdom? It's _one_ guy, and he hasn't tried to kill any of you. He's just an annoyance. And you want me to send my Executioner with you to deal with him?"

"It's… more than just that, sir," Gavin replied, sitting back in his chair at the other end of the table. He glanced towards the Executioner, who stood silently beside me. "The Executioner is a Hydra assassin that has the skill set to take out an entire outpost of our men _alone_. She's scary as shit. I think that if I have her there a time or two, they will fall back into line. Please, sir, let me have her for a meeting, just to keep Richard in check, to ensure something doesn't happen."

I paused for a moment, considering it. Then, I said, "Executioner!"

She snapped to attention beside me, awaiting orders.

"It's your first big assignment," I said, eyes never leaving Gavin as I spoke. "Clary, you're gonna go with Gavin here. You'll accompany him to the next meeting with the Kingdom. You'll provide any backup they need, and you will ensure that the members of the Kingdom know _exactly_ who they're dealing with if they act out."

"Yes, sir," Clary said with a nod. She looked to Gavin for orders. "When do we leave?"

"Now," Gavin replied. "Let's go." Clary gave a nod, walking out the door. Gavin paused. "Thank you, sir. I'll return her to you after the next meeting."

"Take care of my Executioner, Gavin," I told him. "I paid a price for her."

* * *

_**~T'Challa~**_

Morgan knew who the Saviors were as soon as they arrived at our weekly meeting. There was someone new with them this week; she looked tough and dangerous. The leader of this little outpost, Gavin, must've told Negan about the trouble that Richard has been causing. This girl was there to provide protection for the Saviors, as well as muscle if my people tried anything. She was like the Dora Milaje of Wakanda.

_I hope Okoye's alive. I need her there for Mother and Shuri._

A reflection of light caught my eyes, and I realized that this girl had a metal arm. Her metal fingers glinted in the sunlight from where they stuck out from the fingerless gloves she wore. Her eyes were on Morgan, who stood between Benjamin and me. There was a hint of recognition in them, almost as if she knew him.

"Here I was worried we were early," Gavin said as he approached.

"Our arrangement is something I consider with the utmost seriousness," Ezekiel responded. "We will fulfill our obligations on time, every time."

"Yes, indeedy you do. And you will." Gavin turned to slaughtered pigs in the back of the truck, counting them under his breath. "I count eight. That's good. They look bigger than last time. That's good, too."

"They were well-fed," Richard informed him. "I made sure of it."

"We appreciate your hospitality. Lucky for us, we brought two trucks. How about you help us load 'em up? Executioner, give 'em a hand."

The girl—the Executioner, I realized— didn't respond. She was too distracted still staring at Morgan. Gavin repeated, "Executioner." He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Clary!"

She jerked back, paying attention now. "Yes?"

"Help 'em with the pigs," Gavin ordered.

One of the Saviors pulled the truck around, and the Executioner gave our men a hand moving the eight pigs. Alvaro took the last one, putting it in the truck bed and closing the tailgate. Alvaro rejoined us, the Executioner returning to the Saviors. Jared turned to Richard, saying, "Hey, asshole, how about a smile? This?" Jared pointed to the pigs. "This is nothing. We've been letting you off easy."

Richard took a step forward, challenging, "You sure you don't have that backward, kid?"

Jared chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He started to turn away, then spun back around, throwing a punch. Richard ducked under Jared's fist, coming up and elbowing Jared in the face. The Saviors immediately drew their guns, while my people did the same. I extended my claws, but I didn't put on my helmet. The Executioner sighed, "_Poimet'."_

"Cease this," Ezekiel commanded. "Lower your weapons."

"Executioner!" Gavin ordered.

The Executioner muttered something in Russian to herself, stepping forward. She pulled Richard off of Jared, putting herself between the two. She kept one hand on Jared's chest, keeping him behind her, as she grasped the front of Richard's armor in her metal fist. She pulled him towards her, growling, "Leave him alone, _mudak._"

Ezekiel turned to Gavin, telling him, "This is not what we do. Call off your Executioner."

The Executioner turned her head, looking to Gavin. He nodded once, saying, "You heard the man. Executioner, take a step back."

The Executioner stepped back, and Jared looked around. "Free shot?" he questioned. "Oh, I love this shit."

He turned back to Richard, throwing a punch that sent Richard stumbling. Ezekiel said, "Gavin, tell your man to stop."

Jared threw another punch, this time knocking Richard to the ground. He fell back against a jersey wall, and Ezekiel tried, "Gavin!"

"Alright! Jared!" Gavin shouted as Jared drew his fist back for another shot. "Hey! The man said stop! He's been good to us. We've taken up more than enough of his time."

Gavin whistled for his men, and they loaded into their trucks. The Executioner grabbed the back of Jared's shirt, hissing, "C'mon, dumbass. Time to go." As she dragged Jared away, he raised his fist, flipping Richard off. "Get in the fucking truck."

"Same time next week, Ezekiel," Gavin said. "It's a produce week, so… produce. You got the list. Not one bit less." Gavin climbed in the passenger seat of the truck as the Executioner and Jared climbed in the bed. Gavin leaned out the window, looking back at us as I pulled Richard to his feet. "Otherwise, you know… he's gonna have to go first."

As the Saviors were pulling away, that's when it hit me. Bucky said the name Clary and how she was with the Saviors. I realized that the Executioner, _that _was Clary. That was the girl Bucky was so upset over. I saw how young she was, horrified that someone that young was like Bucky and with the Saviors. I had to believe that was she was being forced to be with them.

To Morgan, Ezekiel inquired, "You've encountered them before? Their group?" Morgan dipped his head in acknowledgment. "The man you killed to save Carol, he was one of them as well?"

"He was, yeah," Morgan said.

"The Executioner, you know her as well?"

"I know her by a different name," Morgan said. "I-I don't understand. What the hell happened? She was one of my people."

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

Gavin sent me back to the Sanctuary with the pigs that went there, along with his request that I return for their next meeting with the Saviors. The guard at the gate opened it, allowing me in. I pulled up by the front door, climbing out and handing the keys to one of the Saviors. "You know the drill," I told him. "Where's Negan?"

"Upstairs, ma'am," the Savior replied.

I don't think I'd ever admit it out loud, but the respect that came with being Negan's Executioner was kinda nice. Even though Simon was Negan's right-hand man, I was the one that the Saviors listened to right after Negan. I had practically full control of the Saviors, all because Negan was fool enough to think that I was with him.

I headed inside, climbing the flights of stairs up to the floor with Negan's apartment. I entered, saying a quick hello to his wives as I walked past them and knocking on the door to his room. "It's the Executioner," I called. "I've got a message from Gavin."

"Come in," Negan called. I opened the door, entering. Negan sat on the couch facing the door, a notebook in his hand. "How'd the drop go?"

"Richard's worse than Gavin thought," I told him. "Got in a fight with Jared. Gavin has requested that I join him for the days they meet with the Kingdom. Just those days, of course. I'm yours every other day."

"I can do that," Negan said with a nod. "How about what they offered? Good?"

"Eight pigs," I confirmed. "Good sized. Gavin said they were bigger than the last time."

"Good, good," Negan said. "Now, would you be a doll and go clean your brother up?"

At those words, my blood ran cold. _Oh, God, what did they do to him?_

I took off without replying, rushing to Dwight's room. I pounded on the door, denting it. Dwight opened it, asking, "What?"

"Keys, now," I ordered. "Daryl's cell. Whatever the fuck you did to him, Negan's sending me to clean him up."

Dwight handed over the key ring, along with a hand towel and bottle of water. "You'll probably need that," he said. "And by the way, I didn't touch your brother. I was out dealing with a Code Orange."

I didn't acknowledge that I had heard him, instead darting down the hall to Daryl's cell. I fumbled with the keys in my haste, taking longer than it should have to unlock the door. It swung open, and I saw Daryl inside.

He sat in the sweats marking him as a prisoner, huddled in the corner farthest away from the door. He looked like a scared child, his arms wrapped around his legs with his hair covering his face. Daryl flinched as I took a step forward, my shadow falling over him. "Daryl?" I whispered.

Daryl lifted his head as I knelt in front of him, and I let out a sigh of relief when I saw his face. "Oh, God, I was so scared it was worse," I said.

They had just gotten a few punches in. It had split his lip and given him a bloody nose, as well as cuts along his cheekbones and brows. But it wasn't nearly as bad as I was expecting.

I raised my hand to brush his hair back, and my brother flinched. I whispered, "Hey, Daryl, I'm not gonna hurt you. It's me. It's Clary."

I grabbed the lantern from the hall, closing the door behind me so no one would overhear Daryl and I. I switched the lantern on, sitting it in the corner. I knelt back in front of Daryl, brushing his hair back and kissing his forehead. Daryl wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his face in my shoulder. I tucked his head under my chin, rubbing gentle circles on his back. I closed my eyes, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you," I whispered. "I love you and I'm sorry for everything."

Daryl didn't reply, just stayed latched onto me. "Darry, I'm sorry, I hate to do it," I whispered, "but I don't know how long we got. I gotta get you cleaned up."

Daryl was silent as I released him, wetting the hand towel Dwight had given me and gently dabbing away the blood from Daryl's face. Once I was done there, I went to his knuckles. Daryl had put up a hell of a fight, but there were simply too many Saviors for him to win. "I saw Morgan," I told him. "He's with some other people."

"What?" Daryl asked.

"They're called the Kingdom," I continued. "Prince T'Challa from Wakanda is with them."

"Why are you—"

"T'Challa's the Black Panther. He's a superhero. I think that we can get 'em on our side."

"You want to fight," Daryl said as it dawned on him.

"I'll get us out, Daryl. Don't worry. Just give me a couple of days." I looked down at my brother. "Okay? Can you do that? Can you hold on that long?"

Daryl paused for a moment, not meeting my eyes. Then, he looked up, whispering, "Make it quick, Cheyenne. _Please._"

* * *

_**~Rick~**_

"Little pig, little pig, let me in!"

I heard Negan's voice from the front gate, and as I approached, I saw Spencer opening the chain link part of the gate for him. "Well?" Negan said.

"Who are you?" Spencer inquired.

"Oh, you better be jokin'. Negan, Lucille. I know I had to make a pretty strong first impression." Negan looked to me as I arrived behind Spencer. "Well, hello, there. Do not make me have to ask."

"You said a week," I said as I opened the metal part of the gate. "You're early."

"I missed you," Negan said, grinning.

A walker appeared between two of the three trucks Negan brought, and he turned, taking Lucille off of his shoulder as he did so. "C'mon out here, Rick," he urged me. "Watch this. Calling it!"

I watched as Negan swung his bat once, killing the walker. "Ha ha ha!" Negan laughed, turning to face me. "Easy peasy lemon squeezy!" He turned to his men. "Alright, everybody! Let's get started. Big day. Hey, Rick, you see that? What I just did? That is some service! I mean, we almost get turned away at the gate. 'Who is that guy, anyway?' Do I get mad? Do I throw a fit? Do I bash some ginger's dome in? Nope. I just take care of one of these dead pricks that could've killed one of y'all. Service."

Negan whistled, and the door to one of his trucks opened. I watched Clary climb out, walking forward and stepping over the body of the walker. She looked down at it, then at Negan. "See that?" Negan asked. "I did that. I killed that dead fuck. I'm taking care of these fine people you once called your own!"

Clary took her place at Negan's side, the same spot where she had been standing that night he forced her to kill Abraham. Negan walked into Alexandria with Clary on his heels, pausing only a moment and not giving me time to argue as he pressed Lucille into my hand, ordering, "Hold this."

I stared after him and after Clary. Clary, right beside Negan. Right beside the man that killed one of her brothers and imprisoned the other. Seeing Clary right beside Negan, I knew that this was no longer the Clary I used to know, not by a long shot. The Clary I once knew was dead, and a prisoner of war turned soldier was in her place.


	3. 2: Know Your Enemy

_**Chapter 2: Know Your Enemy**_

_**~Rick~**_

Every single alarm in my head was going off as Negan entered Alexandria, followed closely by Clary. I had to curl my hand into a fist to keep calm, and, even then, it was a struggle. This man, the one that killed my friends, in my home?

They say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

_But what do you do when the enemy is your friend?_

I wanted to reach out to Clary, to talk to her, to ask her _why_, but I knew that wasn't Clary. That was the Executioner. That was my enemy.

"Hot diggity dog!" Negan exclaimed, taking in the sight of Alexandria. "This place is magnificent! An embarrassment of riches, as they say." He turned to Clary, quiet beside him. "Why didn't you tell me it was this grand, dear Executioner?"

"I didn't think it was grand enough for you, sir," she replied.

"Oh, aren't you sweet!" Negan said with a laugh. "Oh, I do believe this place is gonna have plenty to offer up."

Negan turned, looking down the street. I caught sight of my brother-in-arms, starting, "Daryl, hey—"

"No," Negan and Clary interrupt at the same time. Clary looked down, but Negan patted her on the back, pushing her forward a bit as he said, "You already started. Take it away, my dear."

Clary lifted her chin, standing between Daryl and I. "He's the help," she said. "You don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and…" Clary's voice started to shake, so she stopped for a second. "... and we don't make you chop anything off of him."

"Same goes for everyone," Negan sang, as Rosita was still staring at Daryl.

Clary turned, and I could've sworn I saw tears in the corners of her eyes as she met Rosita's gaze. She hissed, "Rosita, it goes for you, too, _muñeca._"

Rosita's eyes flicked away from Daryl, meeting Clary's for the briefest moment before she turned and walked away. Negan let out a low whistle as Rosita passed him, commenting, "Whoa. Lotta suspense there. I don't think she even knew how much." Negan clapped his hands. "Alright, let's get this show on the road. See what kind of goodies you got in the cupboard."

"We put aside half the supplies," I told him.

"No, Rick," Negan immediately objected. "No. You don't decide what we take. _I do._" Negan looked to one of his Saviors. "Arat."

"You heard the man," a Saviors barked, stepping forward. When no one moved, she added, "Move out!"

"They're just gonna search the houses a bit, keep the process moving," Negan explained. "Alright. You gonna show me around or not?"

"Rick," Clary hissed when I didn't respond. "Show the man around. Don't be a dick."

I breathed out a sigh before venturing further into my home with the enemy right behind me.

* * *

"You see this?" Negan questioned as we walked down the street as the Saviors carry random objects out of everyone's houses. Clary and Negan walked side by side, Daryl and I trailing behind. "This is the kind of thing that just tickles my balls! A little cooperation and everything is pleasant as punch." Negan threw his arm around Clary's shoulders, spinning her as he turned to look back at me. "You see—and the Executioner here can clarify—we really are _reasonable_ people once you get to know us. Honest. Aren't we, sweetheart?"

"We are," Clary confirmed, flinching a bit at Negan's pet names.

Negan released her to reach into a cooler, pulling out a soda. He cracked it open, chugging it before throwing the empty can to the ground. "Damn, I love this place!"

"Negan," a Savior said as he approached, camcorder in hand. "Something you might want to see."

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Negan said, taking the camera that I recognized as Deanna's. "I've got my fingers crossed for a little freaky-deaky."

My own voice came from the camcorder, my interview tape for Alexandria. "Jee-hee-sus," Negan said. "Is that you, Rick, under all that man-bush? Shit. I would _not_ have messed with that guy. But that's not you anymore, is it? Nope!" Negan paused the video. "Ah, what else is on here?" A beep, signaling that Negan has gone on to the next video. "Whoa, long hair. And no metal arm."

There was a beep, and then a voice I recognized as Clary's sounded from the camcorder. _"Out there, it's hard to tell time. Either it drags on or flies by. Most of the time, it feels like it just stops. I had a friend who died a while back. He liked Faulkner. Dale, he told us this quote one time. It was what the father said to the son when he gave him a watch that had been handed down through generations. He said, 'I give you a mausoleum of all hope and desire which will fit your individual needs, no better than it did mine and my father before me. I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it. For a moment, now and then, and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it.'"_

Negan was silent, fixated on Clary's interview. The Clary from before Hydra. He didn't look up until after the recording ends, sighing, "Wow." He looked to Clary. "Sixteen people, huh? When was this filmed?"

"When we came to Alexandria, I think," Clary told him. "About… what, five months ago, Rick?"

"Six," I corrected.

Negan inquired, "What's the number now?"

"The number?"

"How many people have you killed?"

"I don't have a number," Clary said. "It was thirty when I stopped counting."

Negan whistled. "Goddamn, am I glad I have you with me!" He slung his arm around her shoulders again, looking around. "Say, whatever happened to that sick girl? That seemed like a hell of a stressful night for her. The way she was carrying on, she was married to number two, right?" I lifted my eyes, glaring up at him. "Careful. Careful how you're looking at me, Rick." I looked away from him. "Widows, especially ones that look like that… they are special. I love 'em." My hand tightened around Lucille, tempted to swing. "Right after their husbands go, they are just… empty inside. But usually not for long." Negan chuckled at his phrasing. "Where is she? I would love to see her."

"Do you care to pay your respects?" Father Gabriel suddenly inquired, announcing his presence.

"Holy crap!" Negan cried, turning as Clary exclaimed, "Shit!"

"You are creepy as shit!" Negan said. "Sneaking up on us, wearing that collar with that freaky-ass smile!"

"My apologies," Gabriel said. "I'm Father Gabriel."

"Gabriel," Clary said, stepping out from under Negan's arm. "Where's Maggie?"

Gabriel didn't answer, and Clary looked down, understanding. Negan questioned, "She didn't make it?"

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

_Oh, god. This is on me. This is all on me. I killed Abraham. I couldn't protect Glenn. And Maggie died because of everything that happened that night._

We all stood around one of the four freshly dug graves. Denise's is the only one that currently has a marker, but they're working on putting markers on the graves of the three that died that night. No one spoke, and I kept my mouth shut as I stared at the pile of dirt that housed Maggie below, knowing that if I opened it, I would start crying. And if I start crying, then Negan would know that it's still me, that it's not the Executioner.

Still, silent tears slid down my cheeks.

"Damn tragedy," Negan said. "That's what this is." He sighed. "Man, this must _really_ suck for you guys. Number one? That was on me. No choice there. Lessons had to be learned. But number two? That didn't need to happen. Daryl there, he forced my hand. Probably put her right on her back, huh? Damn. I was gonna ask her to come back with me."

I lifted my eyes, meeting Rick's for a second before he looked at Negan. "Oh, I know what you're thinking," the Savior continued. "How could I have a shot, the guy that just bashed her husband's head in? You'd be surprised. Boy, people, they—"

Negan was cut off by a gunshot echoing in the near distance, followed by glass breaking. "_Poimet',"_ I muttered, turning in the direction it came from.

"Go," Negan ordered. "We'll be right behind."

I took off, rushing to the infirmary and bounding up the stairs. Bucky was already at the door, nearly tearing it off its hinges in his rush to get inside. He didn't even spare me a glance as I followed him in, Bucky rushing, "Carl, what the hell—"

Carl's eye never left the Saviors, his thumb pulling the hammer back as he aimed his gun at the Saviors. "Put some back," he ordered, "or the next one goes in you."

"Kid," one of the Saviors, David, started. "What do you think happens next?" He glanced to the side, catching sight of me entering behind Bucky. "Especially now that she's here?"

Carl glanced at me, a grin spreading across his lips as he said, "You die."

I rushed in, putting myself between him and the Saviors. I wrapped my hand around the gun, pressing my palm against the end of the barrel so if Carl fired, my hand would stop it. Carl started, "Clary, what—"

"Let go of the fucking gun, Carl," I ordered.

"Carl, put it down," Rick pleaded as he entered.

"He's taking all of our medicine," Carl said.

"Don't make me do this," I tried.

"They said only _half_ our stuff," Carl growled.

"Kid," Bucky started.

"'You don't decide what we take,'" I interrupted, echoing Negan's words from earlier. "We do." I looked to Negan as he approached, standing beside me. "He does."

"Of course," Negan said. Carl still didn't release the gun, and I was starting to worry I'd have to do something I'd regret. "Really kid?"

"You should go," Carl added, looking up at the leader of the Saviors, "before you find out how dangerous we all are." Carl glared at me. "Before you find out what happens to people that turn on us."

"Well, pardon me, young man. Excuse the shit out of my goddamn French, but did you just fuckin' threaten me? Did you just fuckin' threaten my Executioner? Look, I get threatening David here, but I can't have it. Not him, not her, not me."

"Carl, just put it down," Rick hissed.

"Don't be rude, Rick," Negan said, cutting him off. "We are having a conversation here. Now, boy, where were we? Oh, yeah. Your giant, man-sized balls. No threatening us. Listen, I like you, so I don't wanna go hard proving a point here. You don't want that. I said half your shit, and half is what _I_ say it is. That's why this badass known as the Executioner is standing with me. She gets it. You need to get it, too. I'm serious. Do you want me to prove how serious? Again?"

"Don't make me hurt you, Cowboy," I said. Carl's eye flicked to me, realizing that I was still in here. Carl gritted his teeth, hand tightening around the gun; and I warned, "Carl, don't be stupid."

Carl closed his eye, sighing, as he took his hand off the gun. I let out a sigh of relief as I pulled it back, tucking it under the waistband of my jeans. "There you go, kid," Negan said. "You know, Rick, this whole thing reminds me that you have a lot of guns. There's all the guns you took from my outpost when you reaped the benefits of the Executioner wasting all my people, which you were prepared to do yourselves with a shit ton of your own guns. And I'm betting there's even more. Which adds up to an absolute fuck ton of guns, and as this little emotion outburst has just made crystal clear, I can't allow that. They're all mine now. So tell me, Rick, where are my guns?"

"I'll take you to them," Rick said.

"Alrighty," Negan said with a grin. "Let's go. You bring your brainwashed assassin, I'll bring mine."

"Bucky," Rick said, and Bucky opened the door for us, filing out after we left. As he passed me to catch up to Rick, I whispered, "_YA lyublyu tebya."_

_I love you._

I watched his shoulders tense. I knew he heard me, and he most definitely understood me. But he didn't respond. He didn't even look at me. I dropped my head, not looking anyone in the eye as Negan paraded us past, on the way to the armory. Olivia put up the garage door as we approached, saying, "I figured you were coming."

"Show him where the guns are, Olivia," Rick ordered.

"The armory's inside," Olivia said, turning and leading the way in.

"You run the show in here?" Negan inquired.

Olivia paused, turning to look back at him. "I just keep track of it all, the rations, the guns."

"Good. Smart. Don't let me stop you. Take Arat and the boys, show 'em the goods." Negan, Rick, Bucky, and I stepped aside as the Saviors, led by Arat, filed in after Olivia. "Wait, wait, wait." I turned back, Negan having caught Rick's arm. Bucky paused as well, but Negan waved us on, adding, "No, you two, keep going."

"Rick?" Bucky asked.

"Go, Barnes," Rick ordered.

"C'mon," I said, taking Bucky's arm and pulling him towards the armory. I dropped my voice to a whisper, speaking Russian so only Bucky would understand me. "It's still me in here. I have to keep up this facade, or else we're all dead."

"I know," is all that Bucky said. He fell quiet after that, not responding to a word out of my mouth. We reached the armory, and I ordered, "Arat, send one of your men to bring a truck over. The rest of you, start carrying this shit out. Everything in here is ours now."

"But the deal's half," Olivia interjected.

"Alright, I'm getting tired of saying this," I said, taking a step further into the armory, "so listen the fuck up. You don't say what half is. That's our job. The first time we're here, we choose what we take. Every tribute thereafter has a set criteria you have to meet. It's that simple. You meet the criteria, you don't bitch, and we don't kill. And today, half is whatever fucking shit we want. Half is what we fucking say it is. You don't get a say in this shit, and if you do, it's you telling us where shit is. Today's criteria you have to meet is every gun on that list. It better be in here."

"It is," Olivia assured me.

"Good," I said. "I hope like hell it is."

* * *

Of course, it couldn't be that simple. Arat, after going through the inventory as the Saviors carried out weapons to the truck, noticed an inconsistency. Olivia claimed that she didn't know where the missing guns were. "Olivia, chill out," I told her. "We're gonna figure this out. Hey. Cooperate, and you'll be fine. Now come on. Let's go talk to Negan. Arat, take her up."

Arat took Olivia's arm, pushing her up the stairs. Olivia was still terrified despite my attempt to reassure her, pleading, "Please, I don't know—"

Arat shoved Olivia to stand in front of Negan, and I followed her up the stairs. Negan scolded, "Arat, we don't do that unless they do something to deserve it."

"Yeah, we went through the inventory," Arat said. "Guns they had in the armory, guns they had around the walls, they're short."

"What're we missing?" Negan questioned, taking the notebook that contained the inventory.

"Glock 9 and a .22 Bobcat," I supplied.

"Is that true?"

Olivia nodded, and Rick said, "We had some people leave town, and those guns probably went with them—"

"So Olivia sucks at her job," Negan interrupted. "Is that what you're saying?"

"No. No, I'm _not_ saying that."

"There should be a full accounting here, right? Top to bottom. Am I right?"

"No," Olivia said. "I mean, yes. The inventory is correct."

"Good. But not so good, too. You see, what's in here isn't in there. You're two handguns short. Do you know where they are?"

"No, I…"

Negan sighed, turning to Rick. "That's disappointing, Rick. I thought that we had an understanding. But this? Well, this shows that someone's not on board, and I can't have that." He looked back at Olivia. "I don't enjoy killing women. Men, I can waste them all the live long. But at the end of the day, Olivia, my dear, this was your responsibility."

"Look, we can work this out," Rick tried.

"Oh, yes, we can! And I'm going to—right now. This was your job, Olivia, and you screwed up. Keeping track of guns? That shit is life and death. So, Rick, I want you to do what you gotta do and you get those guns. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to kill dear Olivia here. And I'm gonna send my Executioner with you to make _sure_ you find those guns, 'cause I really do _not_ feel like killin' a woman today."

* * *

Negan was so foolishly convinced that I'm on his side that he sent me with Rick to the town meeting. He expected me to intimidate the Alexandrians, lay it all out bare for them, what'll happen if they don't hop on board with Negan and the Saviors.

I did the exact opposite.

I sat on the front pew of the church as Rick stood at the altar, my knees pulled up to my chest. I didn't meet anyone's eyes, but someone would have to spare me a glance first. I felt a familiar presence in my mind, and I thought, _Wanda, get out of my head._

_I'm sorry, but I'm worried,_ Wanda replied, not leaving my head. _We all are._

_Get out!_

Wanda's presence receded from my mind.

I couldn't have her knowing about the plan I was working on. The fewer people that knew about it, the better. It meant fewer people in danger.

"Hey," Aaron said, and I looked up as he stood over me. "You mind if I sit?" I shook my head, and Aaron sat down beside me. "Are they hurting you there?"

"Not me, but Daryl," I answered. "They beat him, then send me to clean him up."

"Are you okay?"

"No," I said, honest for once. "Can't do anything about it, though. Wish I could. I'd give anything to be back here."

"We'll figure it out," Steve said, leaning forward from where he sat in the pew behind me. "I promise you, Clary. We'll figure this out."

"No, Cap, no," I objected, shaking my head. "I need y'all to do what Negan says. I can't let any more of you die. Especially not over two stupid guns."

"It's not guns we're willing to sacrifice ourselves for," Aaron said. With that, he got up and returned to his seat next to Eric. Steve murmured, "He's right, you know."

Steve leaned back in the pew as the doors to the church swung shut, everyone inside. Rick began, "I thought about hiding some of the guns." He turned to face us all, leaving Lucille on the altar behind him. "I did it before. I figured I could bury some out there. Maybe we don't touch them for years."

"Years?" Tobin echoed.

"Yeah, that's right. But what if the Saviors find those guns? What if we run into them when we have those guns on us? Clary, what happens?"

"One of you dies," I answered. "And Negan makes me do it. Or maybe it's more than one. Maybe a _lot_ more. It doesn't matter how many bullets you have, or if you kill me before I can kill any of you. There won't be enough. The Saviors will win."

Rick continued, "It's that black and white. Hiding a couple of guns isn't the answer anymore. We don't have to like it, but we need to give them over. A Glock 9 and a .22 Bobcat. That's what they're looking for. Who has it?"

No one answered.

"Someone knows where they are or they know who does. If we don't find them, they're gonna kill Olivia. They'll do it."

Scott stood, questioning, "Why do they care? Two guns aren't a threat to them. But those guns could help protect us from whatever else is out there."

"Two guns in the hands of the right person can do a lot," Bucky replied.

"Do you have them?" Natasha questioned.

"No," Scott answered shortly. "But I wish I did."

"Look," Steve said with a sigh, standing. "Most of you weren't there that night. You didn't have to watch. You didn't see what they're capable of." Steve placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. "And you didn't see what they're capable of making her do. You can look away now when someone else dies, or you can help solve this. You can help save Olivia. We give them what they want, and we live in whatever passes for peace."

"Say we find the guns," Eric proposed, standing. "How are we gonna get out of this, Cap?"

"There is no way out," I answered before Steve could. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But it's over."

"Let me put this to all of you as clearly as I can," Rick called. "I'm not in charge anymore. Negan is. Now, who has the guns?"

"Rick, Steve," Stark piped up after a quick, hushed conversation with Eugene. "Not everyone's here."

"Rosita and Spencer," Rick said as he realized it.

"Spencer's hidden stuff before," Steve noted. "Rick, you think he'd be dumb enough to do it again?"

* * *

The answer was yes. Spencer really was dumb enough to hide supplies again. Along with a few cans of food and a half-empty bottle of scotch, Rick discovered the guns hidden in a vent after turning Spencer's place upside down. Rick passed the guns to me, making it seem as though I had confiscated them after they were found.

"Rick, you do realize we're gonna have to deal with this, right?" Natasha questioned as we started out the door. "It was one thing hiding food. That we could deal with. But hiding guns, putting Olivia in jeopardy?"

Clint added, "That shit can't fly, Rick."

"We'll deal with it," Rick hissed. "_We_ will. We don't tell Negan who it was."

We arrived in the street to find David towering over Enid, harassing her. "Balloons?" he inquired. "Going to a party, little girl?"

"Let me keep them," Enid said, and I recognized those green balloons that David held in his hands, which had a tendency to wander. They were the same balloons she and Glenn had released into the sky to signal that they were alive, right before the wall caved in. "Please."

"Say it again."

"Please."

David took a step closer, touching Enid's cheek as he said, "One more time."

I passed the guns back to Rick, hissing, "I'll take care of this."

Sharply, Enid said, "Please."

I wrapped my hand around David's shoulder, pulling him back with enough force that probably could've moved the Hulk. He fell to the ground, balloons still in hand, a few feet back. I stood over him, ordering, "Hands off, asshole. Give the girl her balloons."

David got to his feet, and I squared my shoulders, preparing for a fight. I stood between him and Enid, lifting my chin and staring him down. He didn't move for a moment, and I held my metal hand up, palm open, as I ordered, "The balloons. Now, _mudak._"

David dropped them into my hand before turning and storming off with a group of Saviors. I reached behind me, holding them out for Enid to take. She whispered a small thanks as she took them, scurrying off when Negan let out a low whistle. "Damn, that was intense," he remarked. "I would've liked to see that idiot try to take you on."

"Got the guns," I told him, turning away from David. I held my hand out for them, and Rick handed them over. I passed them to Negan, and he chuckled as he looked down at them.

"Well, would you look at that," Negan said, looking up at Rick. "They were here after all. Funny how a little 'Holy shit! Someone's gonna die!' lights a fire under everybody's ass! So tell me, which one of your fine folks almost cost Olivia the rest of her days?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Rick said.

"No, it does matter. You need to get everybody on board. Everybody. Or we go right back to square one." Negan passed the guns to one of the Saviors, who put them in the back of the truck before closing the door. "Alright, Olivia, my dear, you're free to go."

Olivia whimpered as she slipped past Negan and I, still trembling. "Pietro!" I called.

There was a gust of wind, accompanied by a quick brushing of lips on my cheek that I knew was him, before the blonde stood beside me. It was clear from one look just how much it hurt Pietro that I had been taken. There were bags under his eyes, his clothes crumpled and hair disheveled. He hadn't been sleeping, and it was starting to catch up to him. He swallowed before questioning, "Yes?"

"See that Olivia gets home, alright?" I requested. "And then get some sleep. Good Lord, Speedy, you look like shit."

Pietro nodded, wrapping his arm around Olivia as he walked her home. He spared one glance back at me before turning back around, continuing on with Olivia.

I had to get him out of here. I had to get him away from Negan. I could feel it deep inside that if Pietro had a chance to do something to try to get Daryl or me free, he'd do it. He'd do it, no matter how stupid it was or how much of a risk it posed to him. He'd do it, and I couldn't let something like that happen to him. _Just go, Pietro, _I thought. _Just get out of here. Be safe. I'll see you sooner or later._

* * *

"Now that you know we can follow your rules," Rick started, facing Negan at the gate.

"Yes?" Negan inquired.

"I'd like to ask you if Daryl can stay."

"Not happening," Negan immediately said. "You know what, I don't know. Maybe Daryl can plead his case. Maybe Daryl can sway me." Negan looked to the man in question. "Daryl?" My brother said nothing, looking to the ground. Negan chuckled, looking back to Rick. "Well, you tried. Now what you gotta do is get over that tall wall of yours and try harder out there. Earn for me. Because we're coming back soon, and when we do, you better have something interesting for us, or Lucille, she's gonna have her way. I want you to hear that again. If you don't have something interesting for us… somebody's gonna die. And no more magic guns. Arat, grab the deer. It's getting late."

With not a word but a look of pure anger, Michonne dropped the deer carcass from her shoulders and to the ground. She turned and stalked off, not looking back as the Saviors took her kill. At the same time, Dwight, on my brother's motorcycle, drove out the gate and back towards the Sanctuary. Negan grinned, saying, "So, nobody died. And you know what I think? I think that you and I, we've refined our understanding. Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you want me to go?"

"I think that would be good," Rick answered after a moment.

"Then just say those two magical words."

"Thank you."

Negan chuckled. "Don't be ridiculous. Thank _you_." Negan glanced over his shoulder as a walker approached the gate, growling. "Another one. You need our help. David, hand me that candlestick over there. You know what I think? We're both gonna come out of this winners. Watch my form, Rick!"

I glanced down as I noticed Rick's hand tightening around Lucille again. I thought, _Wanda, I know you can hear me. I need you to stop Rick from doing something really fucking stupid._

_On it,_ Wanda replied. I glanced to Rick's eyes, finding them glowing red for a second as he was under Wanda's influence, and his hand loosened around Lucille.

Negan swung the candlestick, killing the walker. "Yep, win-win." He tossed the candlestick aside as he turned back to us. "Why don't you clean that up for me for next time? Let's move out!"

The Saviors started to load up, and Negan took my arm, pulling me with him past Rick. He paused, turning back around. "Oh, wait. How careless of me. You didn't think I was gonna leave Lucille, did ya? I mean, after what she did, why would you want her?" Negan glanced over his shoulder at me. "Well, I guess that explains why you asked for one Dixon and not the other. After what she did."

I tensed, and I felt Wanda in my mind. She reminded me, _Don't do anything stupid yourself, Clary. We need you._

So I didn't react to Negan's taunts, and he turned back to Rick. "Thank you for being so accommodating, friend." Negan took Lucille back from Rick, looking down at him as he said, "In case you haven't caught on, I just slid my dick down your throat and you _thanked_ me for it."

Negan wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards the truck. "C'mon, my dear Executioner. Let's go back to your _real_ home."

* * *

I rubbed my eyes, exhausted and tense after the visit back home to Alexandria. I entered my room at the Sanctuary, closing the door behind me. I took my jacket off, and a folded piece of paper fell out of one of the pockets. I stared at it for a second before locking the door, tossing my jacket on my bed, and picking up the paper. I sat on the edge of my bed, opening it up.

It was a letter.

_I know it's you-you, not the Executioner. You said you wanted to be back with us. We both know I'm your best shot. I can get you and hide you until the Saviors go, and then you'll be free. You just have to say the words._

_\- P._

It was from Pietro, I realized. He dropped it in my pocket when I called him over to walk Olivia home. He must've been expecting me to read it then.

_I could've been free. You fucking idiot. He could've gotten me out._

I was beyond pissed at myself. I had a shot, Pietro had a plan, and I missed it. I balled up the paper, opening the furnace door and tossing it in, allowing the letter to catch fire and burn up any evidence.

_I would've left Daryl._

And then I was even more pissed at myself for having considered leaving Daryl in order to get out with Pietro.

I face planted onto my bed with a groan. "There's no way," I muttered, my voice muffled by my bed. "Not a chance in hell. It's impossible. We're not all making it out alive. I'm gonna be stuck here for the rest of my life." I sighed, rolling onto my back as I stared up at the ceiling. "For however long that'll be."


	4. 3: It’s Been A Long, Long Time

_**Chapter 3: It's Been A Long, Long Time**_

_**~Carl~**_

I glanced over at Jesus as he rummaged through the supplies the Saviors took from the Hilltop, pulling out a bottle of syrup. I raised an eyebrow, getting ready to make a quip about how we don't have any pancakes, but Jesus turned the bottle upside down and poured it out the back of the truck. Jesus glanced at me over his shoulder when he sensed me watching him, explaining, "Making a trail. I think we're getting close."

"Oh, great," I muttered under my breath.

"Having second thoughts?"

"More or less concerned about what the Executioner will do when she sees us together."

"Yeah, shit, we don't want her to expose our alliance," Jesus sighed. "We should bail out, follow the rest of the way. Keep out of her line of sight, and see what we can see, too."

"How?" I asked.

"It isn't usually the fall that gets us," he explained. "It's trying to fight it. Run with it or roll with it, your choice. Just don't fight it. The truck's going slow enough. We'll be in the blind spot. We can race behind one of the other cars."

"I'm not like you," I rushed. "If I screw up and we get caught—"

"It'll be fine," Jesus quickly assured me. "We just gotta go now."

"Okay," I agreed. "Show me first."

Jesus nodded, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was watching before he jumped. Through the plastic flaps covering the back of the truck, I could see him hit the ground and roll before getting up and racing behind an abandoned car.

I never had any intention of following Jesus out the back of the Saviors truck. I intended to go to the Sanctuary alone, which he complicated when Sasha sent him to do some recon for her. I intended to go to the Sanctuary alone and do whatever I had to do. I intended to come and kill Negan and anyone else I had to. Whether that meant killing the Executioner or breaking Clary out, I wanted to make things right.

* * *

Jesus was right. We were getting close.

Negan's place was definitely giving me the "don't fuck with us" vibes, but it didn't scare me off. Not even the walkers chained to the fences. It wasn't the scariest thing I had seen, not by a long shot.

I took a gun from the pile, a large semi-automatic machine gun that resembled the one I used with my dad back when we were still at the prison. I checked to make sure it was loaded, getting ready for a fight. I looked up from the gun when I heard Negan outside the truck, saying, "Okay, boys, let's get this haul unloaded and inside."

I hid behind the crate I hid behind the night before, aiming my gun and waiting for my moment. A Savior pulled aside the plastic, tying it back before he climbed inside. _Clary, if that's really you in there, please, babe, don't come inside the truck,_ I silently pleaded.

A second Savior followed him in, picking up the box Jesus had cut into earlier. The bottles of whiskey inside dropped to the ground, shattering. "Son of a bitch!" the Savior cursed, tossing the empty box aside. He stepped over the broken glass, catching sight of me hidden behind the crate. "What the hell?"

I fired on the two Saviors. One fell backward out of the truck, dead before he hit the ground. The other one dropped dead in front of me. I jumped up, rushing to the edge of the truck, gun raised. "Stay back!" I barked. "Drop your weapons! I only want Negan. He killed my friends. No one else needs to die."

I scanned the crowd of Saviors, most of them with their hands raised, for Negan. The Saviors that didn't have their hands raised were still frozen in shock, but there was one among them with her hand on her gun.

She only caught my sight because the sun reflected off of the metal.

"Stand down, Executioner," I growled. "I only want your leader. No one else."

The same whistle that I heard the night we lost Glenn and Abraham came from my right, and I spun, following Negan with my gun as he moved. "Damn," Negan remarked. "You are adorable. Isn't he adorable, my dear?"

Clary took her eyes off of me for just a moment as she glanced towards Negan, who was looking at her expectantly. Instead of responding, she turned back to me, raising her gun. "Ooh, yikes," Negan chuckled. "Young love gone wrong, anyone?" Negan grabbed a nearby Savior, pulling him in front of him to act as a shield. "Tell me, kid, did you pick that gun 'cause it looks cool? You totally did, didn't you? I ain't gonna lie. You scare the shit outta me."

A Savior tried to rush me from my blind side, but I wasn't stupid. I knew they'd try it, so I was ready. I fired on him, and he dropped dead. While that Savior had my attention, another one tackled me from behind before I could turn and get a shot it. I landed on my back, dropping my gun as I tried to fight off the Savior on top of me. The others drew on me, aiming at the two of us as we struggled for control of the gun.

I caught sight of the Executioner among them.

In the moment I glanced at Clary, the Savior above me seized control of the gun. I stopped fighting when my own gun was aimed at me, recognizing Dwight above me. "Kid," he growled.

"Dwight," Negan said. "Back the fuck off. Is that any way to treat our guest?"

Maybe it was just my imagination, but I could've sworn that Clary followed Dwight with her gun when he stood. He bent down, taking my knife front my belt, too. Negan stepped over, standing above me with his hand outstretched for me to take. "C'mon, kid, I'll show you around."

I said nothing; I didn't even move. I glanced towards Clary as she made her way over, gun still raised. "My dear Executioner," Negan sighed. "I know this ain't how they do southern hospitality where you're from. Lower the gun." Clary holstered her weapon, and I looked back up at Negan, glaring at him. "You know, kid, you do the same damn stink-eye as your dad, except it's only half as good 'cause… well, you know, you're missing an eye."

I ignored Negan, instead looking around for an escape now that I know I've been caught.

"Really?" Negan questioned. "You're really not gonna take my hand? 'Cause you're lucky you even still have a hand. Same as your boy, Daryl. I shoulda just made my Executioner cut it off. Maybe I will." He turned to Daryl, who watched me from the fence. "How's the job goin', Daryl? Hot enough for ya? Yeah, it'd be tough with one arm."

I glanced up at Clary, Negan's eyes still on Daryl. Clary met my gaze, giving me the smallest nod. I reached up, taking Negan's hand. Negan turned back to me, grinning, as he pulled me to my feet. "Ah, smart kid. Now, come with me. Dwighty-boy, why don't you grab Daryl, take him to the kitchen, do a little grub prep. New plan, boys. Let's burn the dead, unload the truck later."

I tuned out Negan as he said something about a wife, instead studying the exterior of his base. The place used to be a factory, judging by the looks of it. _Why do all the bad guys have to have old factories or abandoned buildings as their headquarters? That's just really cliché. And boring._ I looked back to Negan as he motioned for me to follow him as he started towards the door. Clary placed my hat back on my head, and for a second, I thought it was the real Clary with me again.

Then, she took my arm with her metal hand, escorting me as we followed Negan towards the door. I looked over at Clary, at how she remained emotionless as she brought me into the Saviors' headquarters. I suddenly feared for my life, feared that it would be the girl that I loved that killed me on Negan's orders.

I tried to pull myself free from Clary's grip, but I should've known that I wouldn't be able to escape her grasp. I looked to her, questioning, "What are you gonna do to me?"

Negan turned, telling me, "Number one, don't shatter my image of you. You're a badass. You're not scared of shit. Don't be scared of me. It's a disappointment. Two… you really want me to ruin the surprise? Screw you, kid. Seriously. Screw you."

Clary nudged me forward, and I followed Negan up the stairs to the entrance to his base. She followed me up and inside, looking down at the Saviors on the warehouse floor below. Negan looked down at me as Clary ushered me up alongside him, and Negan whispered, "Check this out."

He strolled to the railing, and even though I couldn't see his face, I knew he was wearing that trademark smirk of his. Negan turned, extending his arm for Clary. She placed her hand in his, and he pulled her to the railing with him. As soon as the Saviors saw their leader and his Executioner, they all knelt. I stepped up to the railing beside them, and I can't help but wonder why anyone would want to live this kind of life.

Negan called, "The Saviors have gone out into the world and fought the dead and come back with some really good stuff. Some of that stuff can be yours if you work hard and play by the rules. Today, everybody gets fresh vegetables at dinner. No points needed." There was applause, and Negan turned his back on the Saviors, looking down at me. Clary remained at the railing, her eyes on the Saviors. "You see that? Respect. Cool, huh? Are they still on their knees?"

I nodded once, and Negan grinned. He reached back, clapping Clary on the shoulder. He told her, "Do the honors, my dear."

Clary ordered, "As you were!"

"They listen to the Executioner, too," Negan said as the Saviors got to their feet. "They know that she's my eyes and ears."

Negan walked off, leaving Clary and me at the railing; and I found myself understanding Negan as I imagined these people kneeling before me. _No wonder he does shit like this_. _It's enough to make even the most cowardly feel like a god._

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

"Ladies," Negan said, announcing himself as Carl and I followed him into his apartment. He took off his scarf, tossing it down and letting it land on Frankie's lap. "Don't mind the kid."

Negan looked down at Carl, saying, "I know. Every woman where you're from dresses like they do the books at an auto shop. You're gonna wanna look at their titties. It's cool. I won't mind, they won't mind. Knock yourself out."

Carl glanced towards me, still wearing that shocked expression. He also looked a bit terrified, overwhelmed by the number of women dressed in revealing dresses. I couldn't help but bark out a laugh. Both Negan and Carl turned to look at me at the sound, and I explained, "Carl's face. I had the same look the first time I was up here." Negan stepped away to speak to Sherry, and I leaned over to Carl. "It's a lot, I know. You get used to it after a while. Or try to, at least."

I knelt in front of Amber, but she wouldn't look at me. I had been the one that caught her with Mark, her real husband, last night. If it had been just me, I would've stayed quiet and let them go. But Gary was trailing me, so I had to turn them into Negan.

"Amber," I whispered. "Amber, please. I'm so sorry. If Gary hadn't seen me, I _never_ would've ratted you out 'cause I _understand_."

Amber still ignored me, and I shook my head, getting to my feet and returning to Carl's side. He glanced towards me, shifting on his feet, barely opening his mouth before closing it again. I knew that look, that habit of his. He wanted to say something, ask me something, but he couldn't with Negan in the room.

Negan turned to us, handing Carl a beer before he sat across from Amber, discussing her options with her. Stay with Negan, where she doesn't want to be and let Mark get the Iron; or join Mark and her mom on fence duty, and not the kind where they tend to the walkers. I bowed my head. Because of me, Negan knew all of it and was forcing Amber to make a decision no one should have to make.

I ran a hand through my hair, getting myself under control and lifting my chin, passing myself off as the Executioner once more. I took the beer from Carl, Negan grinning when he saw me taking a drink of it before handing it back to Carl. "Save some for me, sweetheart," Negan told me before getting up and returning to Sherry.

He leaned forward, kissing her, just as Dwight and Daryl arrived, Daryl carrying a tray of food. I looked away from Daryl while he stared at Carl for a moment before tearing his gaze away. Carl looked towards me after glancing at Dwight, and I leaned over, quietly explaining, "Sherry used to be D's wife 'fore she married Negan."

Carl nodded just a bit, and Negan made his way over to Daryl, using a toothpick to eat a grape off the tray. "Carl, grab this tray for me, will you?" Negan requested. Carl passed the beer to me, and I took another swig of it. Negan held out his hand for it, grinning as he teased, "You even save me any, my dear?"

I passed the bottle over to him (which, should be noted, was only half empty) and Negan took a drink as Carl took the tray from Daryl. My brother immediately turned to Negan, demanding, "Why do you got him here? You took Clars, why do you got him?"

"Whoa!" Negan exclaimed.

"Shut the fuck up," I snapped at my brother, every word killing me slowly. "You don't speak."

"Down, Cujo," Negan said, glancing towards me before looking at my brother. "What we talk about when you're not here is none of your business." He glanced over his shoulder at Sherry, who had said the same thing to him earlier, before he looked back at Daryl. "Do not make me or make my Executioner put this toothpick through the only eye he has. You go with Dwight. He'll get you a mop. Dwighty boy, fire up that furnace. I'll be down in a few. It's time for a little deja vu. C'mon, kid."

"What're you gonna do to him?" Carl blurted, unable to look away from the scar on Dwight's face. I knew Carl well enough to know that he was worrying that the Saviors were gonna do the same thing to Daryl. "Please, don't kill him."

I pushed Carl forward between Dwight and Daryl, following Negan to his room, after glancing back at Amber. I said, "It ain't for him."

* * *

_**~Carl~**_

"Ah, I can't do it," Negan said from where he sat on a couch across from me in his room. "It's like talking to a birthday present. You gotta take that crap off your face. I wanna see what Grandma got me."

I glared at him, saying, "No."

"Two men!" Negan barked. Clary tensed from where she stood at attention beside the couch. "Two… men. Punishment. Do you really want to piss me off?" Slowly, I took my hat off, placing it on the coffee table in front of me. I reached behind my head, unwrapping the bandage. "Almost there." Negan glanced at Clary. "Good Lord, girl! Do you always have to act like a damn soldier?! Sit your ass down and look at my present with me!" Negan chuckled as Clary took a seat on the opposite end of the couch while I finished unwrapping the bandage, dropping it to the ground. "Get that hair out of your face. Let me see."

My lip involuntarily quivered as I brushed my bangs back, tucking them behind my ear to reveal the scar left behind by Ron's bullet. If the bullet had been an inch farther to the left, it would've missed me completely. But it didn't, instead taking out my eye and part of my socket. The last thing I remembered from that night was the look of horror on my dad's and Clary's faces, and I remember waking up, hoping that Clary would be there at my side.

Instead, it was Bucky, telling me that she was missing and most likely dead. After one of the worst nights of my life, I got the worst news since my dad had been shot. Then, after I got her back, she was taken from me again, sitting across from me as someone that she's not next to the man that took her.

And by the change in Clary's posture, I realized that maybe it wasn't the Executioner in control.

"Jesus," Clary breathed.

"Christ!" Negan exclaimed. "That is disgusting! No wonder you cover that up. Have you seen it?" I hung my head, not meeting Negan's eyes. "I mean, have you looked in the mirror? That is gross as hell! I can see your socket! I want to touch it. Oh, come on. Can I touch it?" He sat back, sighing. "Damn. Holy hell, kid. Look, I just… it's easy to forget that you're just a kid. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything." He sighed again as I looked up. "I was just screwing around."

"Just forget it," I whispered.

There's a knock at the door, and Negan hesitates for a moment before calling, "Come in."

"Carl," Clary said softly as the Savior I heard someone calling Fat Joey entered. I tuned him and Negan out as Clary got up, sitting on the coffee table across from me. She gently pushed her fingers through my hair the same way she did when we would lie in bed together before she was taken by Hydra.

"Clary," Negan said, taking Lucille back from Fat Joey. "My dear, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were soft on him."

"There is still a bit inside that remembers what once was," Clary answered. "Something that remembers days gone by. Something that Hydra couldn't take away after they took me before I even knew if you'd wake up from the shot you took for Rick."

"Kid, you took that bullet for your dad?" Negan questioned as Clary moved aside so Negan could look at me.

"Well… not intentionally, but, yeah, I guess," I answered.

"Listen, kid, all jokes aside… you look rad as fuck. I wouldn't cover that shit up. I swear to you, no one's gonna fuck with you looking like that. Keep the bandage off. No one will even _think_ of coming near you. No, sir."

"Steve says that scars are tattoos for the brave," I said. "But… I didn't feel very brave when Ron shot me."

"Shit, kid, you were in a life or death situation. I think it's okay to be a little scared."

"Negan, sir," Clary said, pushing herself to her feet. "I think it should be just about ready."

"What should be ready?" I questioned as Negan got to his feet.

Negan looked down at me with a wicked grin, answering, "The Iron."

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

Negan clanged Lucille against the railing as we made our way to the main factory floor, getting the attention of everyone below. When the Saviors saw that it was their leader, Carl and I trailing behind him, they knelt.

Mark was in the middle of it all, tied to a chair with a fire burning, heating the iron, just a few feet away.

I saw Amber below, already crying over what was about to happen.

Negan turned to Carl, holding Lucille out towards him, as he said, "Hold that for me."

Carl took Lucille without a word, looking down at it sadly. He looked over at me as Negan stepped to the railing, but I couldn't return his gaze with the Saviors watching us. I took my place beside Negan at the railing, looking down upon his men.

"You know the deal," he began. "What's about to happen is gonna be hard to watch. I don't want to do it. I wish I could just ignore the rules and let it slide, but I can't. Why?"

In unison, the Saviors answered, "The rules keep us alive."

"That is right," Negan said, walking down the first flight of stairs and stopping on the landing. I pulled Carl along with me as he followed him, remaining on the steps behind him as Negan spoke. "We survive. We provide security to others. We bring civilization back to this world." Negan glanced over his shoulder at me. "Who are we, my dear?"

"Negan," I answered. "We're Negan."

"Yes, but not the answer I was looking for."

"Oh, we're the Saviors."

"Exactly! And we can't do any of what it is we do without rules. Rules are what make it all work. I know it's not easy. But there's always work. There is always a cost. Here, if you try to skirt it, if you try to cut that corner…" Negan chuckled that empty chuckle of his. "Then it is the Iron for you."

Negan continued on down the stairs, Carl following him. I remained where I was for a moment longer, barking, "On your feet! Let the boss man through!"

I jumped over the railing, dropping down beside Negan and Carl. The Saviors parted for us as we walked through, watching Carl with Lucille in his hand. I put out an arm to stop Carl as we reached the front of the circle of Saviors, preventing him from continuing any farther as Negan walked over to Dwight, who was in charge of getting the Iron ready. The Saviors gave Carl and me a wide berth, afraid to stand too close.

I had to blink back tears, not able to show anyone that I felt _horrible_ for being the reason behind Mark and Amber's pain and suffering.

"Mark, I'm sorry," Negan apologized, taking the Iron, red with heat, from Dwight and turning to the Savior in the middle. "But it is what it is."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sherry make her way over to Amber, wrapping her arm around the blonde. I turned my head just enough to look at Carl beside me, warning him, "Don't look away. Negan will know if you do."

I turned my attention back to Negan as he pressed the Iron against Mark's cheek. I don't know which reached me first; Mark's screams or the scent of burning flesh. I sensed Carl's change beside me, tensing and gripping Lucille tighter just because he needed something to hold onto.

I watched, tears continuing to come to my eyes before I could repress them. Mark's screams stopped before Negan did, the Savior passing out from the pain. Negan pulled the Iron from Mark's cheek, his head slumping forward. "There," Negan said, handing the Iron back to Dwight. "That wasn't so bad now, was it? Ah, Jesus. He pissed himself."

I tensed as Negan stepped towards my brother, just as I did every time he's in a room with Negan, not knowing if he's going to do something stupid that gets him killed. Negan stood uncomfortably close to him, leaning down to whisper an order in his ear. Daryl got to work with a small nod, mopping up the floor around Mark.

"Doctor Carson, we're done here," I said, taking a small step forward. "You're up. Do your thing."

"Well, the pussy passed out," Negan announced, turning as he spoke to the crowd of Saviors. "But it's settled—we're square. Everything is cool. Let Mark's face be a daily reminder to him and _everyone else_ that the rules _matter!_ I hope that we all learned something today because I don't _ever_ want to have to do that again."

I backed up as Negan made his way towards Carl and I, standing just a bit in front of Carl to separate him and Negan. "Some crazy shit, huh?" Negan asked him. "You probably think I'm a lunatic. C'mon, kid. Let's go figure out what to do with you."

Negan sidestepped me, wrapping his arm around Carl's shoulders. He wrapped his other arm around mine, pulling me along with them through the crowd. I was on his left, passing Amber as he led us through the Saviors. I looked at Amber with the tears still in my eyes, mouthing, "I'm sorry."

* * *

_**~Carl~**_

I wanted to believe that it was Clary in control of her own mind. She was nearly crying when Mark got the Iron, just slightly putting herself between Negan and me; those are things that I knew the Executioner wouldn't do if she was in control.

Clary sat perched on the arm of the couch beside Negan, looking down over his shoulder and providing input as they assigned shifts for the next two weeks. I wanted to believe it was Clary, but I was watching her act as Negan's second. I had to wonder if she's done any more of the horrible shit he's forced her to do, but somewhere inside me, I knew that she had just by watching the respect the rest of the Saviors had for her.

I believed it was still Clary, but I knew she had changed sides.

She may have still been soft for some of us from Alexandria, but she was a Savior now. I couldn't really say that I blamed her; the Saviors' higher-ups led a nice life and she was at the top of the food chain with Negan, in command of everything.

"Can I wrap up my face now?" I asked.

"No, you absolutely cannot," Negan answered, looking up at me from the shift schedule.

"Why the hell not?!" I demanded.

Negan chuckled. "Look at this badass." He looked up towards Clary. "No wonder you like him!" He turned back to me. "You can't because I'm not done with you. And I like looking at your disgusting, rad-ass, badass eye, so it's staying out." Negan sat forward in his seat, putting his notebook on the couch beside him. "What? You got something to say?"

"Why haven't you killed me?" I asked. "Or my dad? Clary, Daryl? Why haven't you killed us?"

"Daryl is gonna make a good soldier for me," Negan replied. "You see, you think he's holding it together but you saw him. It's only a matter of time before she—" Negan gestured up to Clary. "—gets him to break. Your dad's getting me stuff. And Clary? Now, why in the hell would I kill my Executioner?"

I looked towards Clary, and I saw in her eyes that she knew that I was onto her. I knew she wasn't the Executioner like Negan thought she was. I swallowed before turning back to Negan, answering, "Because she used to be one of us?"

"Well, if I killed everyone that used to be part of another group, I wouldn't have anyone with me," Negan replied. "Now, you, on the other hand, well… we shall see. It's more productive to break you. More fun, too. You think that's stupid?"

"I'm thinking we're different."

"You're a smart kid," Negan said. What do you think I should do? You know I can't let you go. So, do I kill you? Iron your face? Chop off your arm? Tell me. What do you think?"

I stood, pointing at the window as I growled, "I think you should jump out the window to save me the trouble of killing you."

Negan chuckled, clapping his hands. "Now _there_ is the kid that impressed the hell out of me!"

"I think you're not saying what you're gonna do to me because you're not going to do anything," I said, leaning down to look in his eyes. "If you knew us, if you knew anything, you _would _kill us. _But you can't_."

"Maybe you're right," Negan said. "Maybe I can't. Maybe I can't do anything to you. But she can." I involuntarily glanced towards Clary, backing up as Negan stood. Clary had sat forward when I threatened Negan, prepared to defend him; but now she was watching the exchange before her carefully, equally as unsure of what Negan planned to do as I was. Negan broke into a grin, asking, "You want a little blast from the past, kid? I'll take a walk, give you time." Negan winked at Clary. "You know where everything is, my dear."

Negan laughed to himself as he left, and as soon as the door closed, Clary rushed to me, asking, "Are you okay?"

"Are you on my side?" I immediately replied.

Clary nodded. "I'm me."

I let out a sigh of relief, and Clary wrapped her arms around me. Her metal arm was cold against my back as she held me, and I rested my head against hers as I returned her embrace. "I'm not alone," I told her. "Jesus came here with me. He jumped out of the truck before we got to the Sanctuary, but he was coming here."

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

Negan sent for Carl and I about half an hour later, finally having decided what he was going to do with Carl. We met him down at the entrance, the Saviors trucks lined up to go for a tribute. "Shit, that's right," I said as we walked down to meet them. "Alexandria's tribute day is comin' up."

"He's taking me back?" Carl questioned, glancing towards me.

"I guess so."

We reached Negan, who chuckled as he saw the two of us together. He clapped Carl's shoulder, questioning, "Have a good time, kid?" Carl opened his mouth to respond, but Negan cut him off. "I'm messing with you. I don't want to know." Negan turned over his shoulder, calling, "Daryl!"

Daryl stepped towards us, looking past Negan towards Carl. Negan updated him, "You seemed worried, so we're taking the kid home."

Daryl threatened, "You do anything to him—"

"Dwight!" I barked. "Daryl needs a time out. Put him back in his box for a while."

Dwight glanced to Negan for approval, who simply gave him a nod. He took Daryl's arm, pulling him back towards the doors. Daryl's gaze never left me as Dwight dragged him past.

"And D!" Dwight paused, awaiting more orders; but I wasn't looking at him, instead meeting Daryl's eyes. "Make it quick."

I saw understanding in Daryl's eyes then. When I told him I was working on a plan to get us out, he asked me to make it quick. I knew that it'd be much easier to get him out if he was in the cell rather than surrounded by Saviors in the courtyard.

The trucks started, and the Saviors began piling in them. Negan opened the door to his truck for Carl, who climbed in after glancing at me. Negan paused before he climbed in, turning to me as he questioned, "Executioner, you riding with us?"

"Actually, Negan, sir, I think I'd be better here, looking over everything," I replied. "If that's alright with you."

"I think that's a fine idea," Negan said. "You stay behind. Saviors!" Everyone in the courtyard turned at Negan's voice, kneeling. "Until I return, the Executioner is in charge."

"Yes, sir," the Saviors collectively replied. Negan climbed in the truck with Carl, and I stood, watching them go. The Saviors looked to me, awaiting orders. I called, "As you were!"

The Saviors returned to their jobs, while I walked inside. I looked behind me to make sure nobody was following me as I turned down a hallway.

I had to find Jesus, and I had to get Daryl out of here.


	5. 4: The Great Escape

_**Chapter 4: The Great Escape**_

_**~Daryl~**_

There was something inside me that kept telling me that Clary wasn't with me. There was some sort of doubt in my mind that it's been the Executioner all along, stringing me along and fooling me into thinking that it's my sister when she's been acting on Negan's orders, trying to see if I'm desperate—or stupid—enough to try to escape again.

I shook my head at myself, wanting to trust my sister with everything, but I couldn't the doubt persisted. I looked towards the door as I heard approaching footsteps, which paused at my door. A paper was slipped under before the footsteps were gone again. I picked it up, reading the note on the front that wasn't in Clary's handwriting.

_Go now._

I turned it over, finding a bobby pin and a key I recognized—it was the one to my motorcycle. I knew I should wait for Clary, but I still couldn't shake the doubt. I slipped the key to my motorcycle in my pocket, using the bobby pin to pick the lock. I slipped out the door, quietly closing it behind me before making my way down the hall.

I stuck to the wall, and I could hear two Saviors arguing in a room up ahead. Glass broke, beer flowing out the door. I backed up, looking around for a place to hide. I ducked inside a room, pressing my ear against the door. I waited, listening for anyone coming to the door. No one came, no one saw me. I turned, looking inside the room. I checked to make sure I was alone, quickly realizing that I was hiding in Dwight's room. I took a jar of peanut butter of his shelf, eating it, as I stripped out of the clothes the Saviors gave me, stealing some of Dwight's. They would be enough to get me out of the Sanctuary, and I told myself I'd burn them as soon as I had my own clothes.

As soon as I finished eating, I took a baseball cap off of Dwight's wall and flipped his chess set off a table before leaving. I had nothing to defend myself with as I made my way down the same hall I used to try to escape before, this time picking up a pipe as I make my way down the hall. I glanced behind me, making sure there was no one watching me. I thought I heard footsteps, so I sped up a bit, praying I wouldn't run into anyone. I looked ahead as I rounded the corner, immediately smacking into someone. We both fell to the ground, and my heart began to race. I pushed myself up on my elbow, looking to see who I ran into and wondering if I could get away before they saw me.

When I looked up, I found that the person I ran into was mirroring me, staring back at me as she propped herself up on her elbow. As I realized that I ran into the Executioner, I blurted, "Shit."

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

I caught sight of someone with long hair just down the hall, darting into a doorway, and I called, "Jared, hey, the hell you doin'? Shit, is somethin' goin' on with the King?" I made my way closer to where Jared disappeared. "Jared! Answer me, you dick."

I open the door, jumping back with a cry as I dodged a fist. The attacker—who was most definitely not Jared—darted out into the hallway with me. I caught his fist with my metal hand as he threw another punch, and even though some of his hair was in his face, I could tell who it was. "Jesus?" I questioned.

"Shit," Jesus grunted, trying to pull his hand free.

"No, no, Jesus, it's me," I rushed, releasing him. "It's Clary."

"Oh, thank god," Jesus breathed. "Well, um, I guess I'm here to rescue you. And Daryl."

"Aren't you a little short for a Stormtrooper?" I returned.

"Yeah, you're you," Jesus said with a chuckle. "Where's Daryl?"

"No, I'll get him," I said. "You secure our way out, wait for us there."

"Where?" he questioned.

"Come with me," I said, taking his arm. We ducked into a room when we heard footsteps. I checked the door first, making sure the coast was clear. I glanced over my shoulder at Jesus, nodding once. He followed beside me as I led the way down the hall, checking for Saviors almost constantly. I stopped in my tracks as I saw a Savior walking down the hall, at the opposite end. There was no other way to go around, and we couldn't turn back. I turned to Jesus, who stopped behind me, hastily whispering, "Kiss me."

"What?" he questioned.

"If it worked for Nat and Steve, it'll have to work for us," I say, remembering the story they told us about when they were on the run from Hydra. I glanced over my shoulder; we were running out of time as the Savior drew ever closer.

Jesus looked at the Savior over my shoulder, giving a slight nod. I grabbed the front of his vest with one hand, pulling him down to my level. I slipped the other around his waist, inside his coat, to hide the metal so our cover wouldn't be blown. Jesus rested his hands on my hips, holding me in place until we were sure that the Savior was gone. We released each other at the same time, and I couldn't help but grin. "Damn," I said.

"Thank you, Clary, for making me question if I'm one hundred percent gay," Jesus replied. He paused as if he was considering it. "Okay, yeah, totally gay."

"Shut up," I said with a chuckle. Jesus followed behind me as I turned around, continuing the way we were going. We came to a T in the hall, one way leading to armory and Daryl, and the other leading to the exit with the motorcycles. "Okay, Paul. You go out that way, scope a way out, wait for us. I'm gonna get Daryl."

"Be careful," Jesus said. He squeezed my shoulder before taking off towards the exit, while I took the other way. I made my way to the armory, smiling softly as I saw there was no one inside. I grabbed my crossbow, then strapped the Falcon wings they took from Glenn to my back. They didn't belong to the Saviors, and neither do the Dixons.

* * *

_**~Daryl~**_

I was sure I was guaranteed to go back into the cell as Clary and I got to our feet, facing each other. I was sure Negan had broken her, Clary no longer flinching when he asked her to do his bidding. She hardly spared me a glance ever since she tended to the cuts I received when I tried to escape, never again mentioning trying to escape. The only time she looked at me was when she was barking orders.

I was sure my sister had become Negan's right hand.

I was sure up until she whispered, "Stay beside me. I'll cover you if anyone sees us."

We stuck to the wall, pausing as we heard people inside a room. From what it sounded like, they were playing poker. Clary gestured for me to go first, and I ran past the open door first. She followed, but they saw her. Clary turned and spread her wings, blocking their view of me as I hid behind her. "Hey, Executioner," one of the men said. "The hell are you doing with those?"

Clary responded, "I'm taking care of this place, better than you ever could. I'm doing a sweep of the compound _and _the forest, making sure the kid was the only one that came. Now if you'll excuse me, you can go back to poker and I'll protect our home."

"Damn, okay, sweetheart," the Savior said. I stayed hidden behind her wings so I wouldn't be seen as I peered around them, watching the Saviors as they started to leave.

"Hey, numbnuts!" Clary snapped, and one of the Saviors turned. "You don't call me 'sweetheart.' Call me sweetheart again, call me sugar, darling, honey, _anything_ other than my name, and I will cut your dick off and shove it so far up your ass you'll be pissing from your mouth."

I smirked as the Savior turned and rushed back into the room with the others, and Clary turned back to me, still keeping her wings spread to block the Saviors in case they came back into the hall. She ushered me down the hall, glancing over her shoulder for Saviors. "Take my crossbow," Clary ordered, pressing it into my hands. "The exit with the bikes, get out there. Jesus is waiting."

"Where are you going?" I questioned.

Clary grinned, looking up towards the roof. "I've been waiting for you to say that."

"The roof?" I questioned.

"Wings, baby," Clary said. "I got wings, Clarence."

"Clarence was the angel."

"I have memory problems." Clary grinned, nudging me towards the door. "Go. I'll be your eyes in the sky, get us a path out of here."

"Be careful," I told her, but she was already taking off for the roof. I put her crossbow on my back, grabbing a lead pipe as I made my way towards the exit. I pushed open the door leading outside, looking around for any Saviors before exiting. I ran for my motorcycle, ducking down when I heard footsteps. I looked up, recognizing the Savior that had walked over as Fat Joey. "The hell?" he questioned.

I straightened, knowing that I had been seen, but I didn't back away. Instead, it was Fat Joey that raised his hands in surrender, saying, "Whoa! Whoa!" I started to make my way over to him, my hand tightening on the pipe. "It's cool, I swear. Buddy, you can walk right out that gate there, and I won't say anything to anybody." I didn't take my eyes off of him as he pointed to where he came from. "I'm supposed to be there now, but, listen, I-I'm just trying to get by. Just like you."

"You ain't like me," I growled.

"Please!"

I didn't give him another chance to beg, swinging the pipe. I beat him to death with it, just like his leader killed my friends. I thought I heard someone say my name, but it didn't stop me. I didn't stop until there's nothing left of Joey's head. "Daryl," a voice repeated.

I looked up to find Paul Rovia standing there, out here just like Clary said he would be. He softly said, "Daryl…"

"I'm good," I said, dropping the bloodied pipe. I looked back down at Joey's body, seeing a familiar revolver in his holster. I leaned down, picking up a fully loaded Colt Python. _Rick's._ I tucked it in my jeans, telling Fat Joey's body, "It ain't just about gettin' by here. It's about gettin' it all." I looked up at Jesus. "C'mon, I got the key. Let's go."

Jesus picked up a walkie talkie before starting over to me, seemingly unsure about climbing on behind me. "Where's Clary?" Jesus questioned.

I glanced up towards the roof as I saw her standing at the edge. "She's around."

Jesus turned and followed my gaze, looking up at her. She motioned for us to go, and Jesus asked, "Is she crazy? What the hell is she thinking?"

"C'mon!" I urged. "Let's go!"

I started the motorcycle up as Jesus climbed on behind me. As we started off, Clary started running from where she was on the rooftop. When she reached the end of the roof, she jumped; and I felt Jesus's hands tighten around me. She dipped below a trailer, but she quickly ascended, the Falcon's wings spread wide. Jesus laughed, crying, "Your sister's a badass!"

Clary flew above us, slightly ahead. I let her lead the way, following her back to the Hilltop. She landed ahead of us on the road when we were a little over halfway there, and I pulled to a stop beside her, questioning, "What is it?"

"A group of walkers, crossing the road up ahead, headin' towards the Sanctuary," she reported. "They were a good ways away, shouldn't have heard us. I'll give 'em a couple minutes, then check and see if they're gone."

"Clary, what's wrong?" I asked, noticing how she kept shifting on her feet.

"Nothin', just trying to get used to the wings."

"Bullshit," Jesus said. "What's going on?"

"Is it true?" Clary asked. "About Maggie? Is she really dead? And what about Sasha?"

"They're at the Hilltop," Jesus said with a soft smile. "Both of 'em."

"And the way that Sasha kept looking at me, after I… after _she_ killed Abraham. Did Sasha and Abe hook up?"

"He dumped Rosita," I answered. "She was really upset, and pissed, after Abraham hooked up with Sasha."

"Shit, I don't know if I can face her," Clary said, running her hand through her hair. "Either of 'em. All of 'em. What the hell does Bucky think? He wouldn't even _look_ at me when we were at Alexandria."

"If you had seen him at the Hilltop, right after everything," Jesus said, then trailed off, shaking his head. "He was so torn up. Not even Steve could get him to stop crying."

"I need to get word to Alexandria somehow," Clary said. "First, we need to get to Hilltop. Let's go."

She turned and took off, not giving Jesus or me time to argue.

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

I touched down at the gate as it opened, walking in alongside Daryl and Jesus, both still on my brother's bike. "Enid?" I questioned, jogging forward to meet her as she ran down to us. "Enid, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same to you," Enid returned. "You're on our side?"

"I always have been," I answered, nodding. I smiled into Enid's shoulder as she wrapped me in a hug, but I pulled away from her when Maggie and Sasha came to greet us. I backed up to hide behind Daryl as the two made sure we were all okay, but I wasn't able to look at Sasha. Sasha, on the other hand, didn't understand why I couldn't look at her because she kept trying to get me to. "Clary?" Sasha inquired. "Clary, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," I whimpered, backing away. This time, there was no Bucky standing there to stop me. Jesus reached for me, but I backed away from his hand, too. "I'm so sorry. I-I-I can't-I can't-"

"Clary," Sasha said, reaching towards me. "Clary, I know that wasn't you. I don't blame you."

Maggie released Daryl, stepping towards me. "Clary, honey, hey. Come back to us."

"Maggie," I whispered, feeling tears running down my cheeks. "Maggie, I'm sorry. I tried to protect him." I didn't back away from Maggie as she darted forward, wrapping me in a hug. "I'm so sorry. And then… and then I thought you were gone, too! Maggie, I thought you were gone and it was because of me!" I tried to choke back a sob, but I just couldn't. "I didn't want anyone to die! I didn't want to kill anyone! I didn't want to! I'd never hurt any of you! I never _want_ to hurt any of you!"

Maggie pulled away for a moment, smoothing down my hair with one hand. "I know," she assured me. Maggie pulled me to her chest, holding me there as she pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I know you tried. I saw it in your eyes. I know it wasn't you in there." Maggie closed her eyes, resting her head on the top of mine. "You're here now. You're safe. I won't let them touch you ever again. You're safe now, Clary."

* * *

I lifted my head from Jesus's shoulder when I heard the gate opening, and Daryl stood up from where he sat behind us on the stairs to Jesus's trailer. "The hell was that?" Daryl demanded. "Who's here?"

Jesus got to his feet, ordering, "Stay behind me." He glanced over his shoulder at us. "Kal announces the Saviors, but sometimes, he doesn't have time."

Jesus led the way forward, smiling softly when he saw the group that entered through the gate. It was our group, composed of Rick, Michonne, Carl, Natasha, Tara, Rosita, Bucky, Stark, and Steve. Rick started forward when he saw Daryl, wrapping him in a hug. I couldn't bring myself to look at any of them after what I did, instead clasping my hands behind my back and staring at the ground in front of me.

"Clary?" Bucky tentatively asked. I looked up just a bit at my name, and Bucky screamed, "_CLARY!"_

Bucky sprinted towards me before I had a chance to react, tackling me in a hug. We hit the ground, Bucky's hand behind my head so it didn't smack against the ground when we landed. I don't know who was holding on tighter between the two of us, but it didn't really matter. It was Bucky and he was there, and it would've been just like the old times if I didn't have a price on my head. Bucky was bawling like a baby into my shoulder, the two of us a jumble of limbs with Bucky lying pretty much on top of me. I struggled to find the right words to say to him, unsure of what there was that I could say.

"If my shoulder rusts, I'm coming after your ass," I joked.

Bucky let out a laugh through his tears, clutching me tighter, if it was at all possible. "You've literally jumped into a river, doll," Bucky replied. "And so have I, come to think of it."

"Whatever you say, Tin Man," I retorted.

"You're an asshole."

"But you still love me anyway."

"I still love you," Bucky confirmed. He pushed himself up, looking down at me as he sat back on his knees. Bucky pulled me up, studying each feature of my face. He brushed my hair back, his hand resting on my cheek for a moment. Bucky teared up again, bowing his head and leaning into my shoulder. I just kept my arms around him as he cried, sitting on his knees with my legs wrapped around his waist.

I ran my hand through his hair, resting it on the nape of his neck as I held him against me. "It's over now," I whispered to him. "I'm here. I'm here, James. I'm here and it's me."

I looked up at Carl as he approached, removing one arm from around Bucky as I reached up to take his hand. Carl knelt beside us, clutching my hand as he pressed his lips to the back of it, and I felt his tears wetting my skin. He looked up after a moment, and I pulled my hand free to wipe away his tears. "You made it," he whispered.

"Yeah, with Jesus's help," I said. "You good?"

Carl nodded, releasing my hand and getting to his feet as Daryl finished reuniting with everyone else. Carl wrapped my brother in a hug, and I could see some of the tension leaving Daryl's body as he learned that Carl made it back to Alexandria safe and sound. Over Carl's shoulder, Daryl held out a gun for Rick to take. It took me a moment, but I recognized it as Rick's Colt Python.

"The Sheriff's back in town," I said softly, watching Rick holster his gun once more.

Bucky lifted his head from my shoulder, glancing around to see Rick with his gun before he looked back at me. "You got the guns?"

"We took what we could swipe," I answered. "My bow, the Falcon wings. I still had my gun, and Daryl found Rick's. But we'll get more."

I pulled away from Bucky, getting to my feet. He followed me up, standing back as I reunited with the others. I saw Tara's eyes widen when she saw me, and I realized that nobody had told her that I was the Executioner that took out the Saviors at the satellite outpost. I gave her a small smile, then turned to Nat as she gave me a quick hug before moving onto Daryl. Steve stepped over, pulling me into a hug.

"Oh, and I thought I did stupid shit," Steve murmured, holding me against his broad chest. "Jesus, Clary."

"Yeah, yeah, love you, too, Steve," I replied. "Everyone okay back home?"

"No," Steve answered. "They killed Spencer and Olivia."

"No," I whispered, and Steve held me tighter. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, then passed me off to Stark as he went to discuss our next move with Rick and Maggie. Stark wrapped his arms around me, and I rested my chin on his shoulder. "I missed you, Tony."

"I missed you, too, Indy," Stark replied. I had to smile against his shoulder, recalling how that had been his nickname for me since I introduced myself as Indiana Jones after introducing Glenn to the Avengers as my sidekick Short Round. "Was it really you all along?"

"At the beginning, it was the Executioner. She was the one that killed Abraham, but I was inside _screaming_." Stark held me tighter, turning his head to press a kiss to my temple. "I remembered him, I remembered you all. But it's me now."

Over Stark's shoulder, I saw the others were waiting for us. I pulled away from Stark, following them as they turned up towards Barrington. I fell into step beside Steve, Bucky flanking Steve while Daryl and Jesus flanked me to my right. Jesus questioned, "So what's the plan, Clary?"

I shared a look with Steve before glancing back over my shoulder at Jesus, answering, "We get ready for war."


	6. 5: The Executioner’s Song

_**Chapter 5: The Executioner's Song**_

_**~Bucky~**_

"No! No way in hell!" Gregory exclaimed, shaking his head at us when we proposed another partnership for taking out the Saviors. "You people swore you could take the Saviors out, and you failed. So any arrangement we had is now done, null and void. We aren't trade partners, we aren't friends, and we never met. We don't know each other. I owe you nothing. In fact, _you _owe _me_ for taking in the refugees, at great personal risk."

"Oh, you were very brave staying in here while Maggie and Sasha saved this place," Jesus retorted. "Your courage was _inspiring._"

Gregory turned to him. "Hey, don't you work for me? Aren't we friends?"

"Watch your mouth," Natasha warned.

"Gregory, we already started this," Rick said.

"You started it," Gregory argued.

"_We_ did," I said. "My people saved you, saved this place. Clary took out an outpost for _you_."

"For Hydra," Gregory quickly pointed out.

"Who you allied with," I retorted. "We're in this together. And we're gonna win."

"These are killers!"

"So am I," Clary and I said in unison.

"But—"

"Is that how you want to live?" Rick questioned. "Under their thumb, killing your people?"

"Sometimes we don't get to choose what our life looks like," Gregory said. "Sometimes, Ricky, you have to count the blessings you have."

"How many people can we spare?" Maggie questioned. "How many people here can fight?"

"'We'?" Gregory repeated with a laugh. "I don't even know how many people we have, Margaret."

"Apparently, you don't know their names, either," Stark remarked.

"Does it even matter?" Gregory returned. "Does it matter how many people I have? I mean, what are you gonna do? Start a platoon of sorghum farmers? 'Cause that's what we got. They grow things. They're not gonna want to fight."

"You're wrong!" Tara exclaimed. "When people have the chance to do the right thing, they usually step up. I mean, people just—"

"Let me stop you before you break into song," Gregory interrupted.

Clary snapped, "You're gonna sit your bitch ass the fuck down before I _make_ you. _That's_ what you're gonna do."

Gregory looked to Maggie, Rick, Steve, and finally Jesus before asking, "Are you _really_ gonna let her talk to me that way?"

All Jesus said was, "Park it, Gregory."

Gregory frowned, but he sat. "By the way, who would train all this cannon fodder?" All at once, Sasha, Rosita, Steve, Clary, and I spoke up, volunteering to train them. "Rhetorical, okay? I don't want to know."

I began, "You don't want to know…"

"Or you're _scared_ to know?" Clary finished.

"You know, it's really creepy, you two finishing each other's sentences?" Gregory returned.

Clary stepped towards Gregory, flexing her metal arm like the last time she threatened him as she leaned down across the desk. "Answer the _goddamn question, mudak."_

"I never want to hear another word about any of it, ever," he said, whining like a toddler.

"Would we be better off without the Saviors, yes or no?" Rick snapped.

"Yeah, sure, okay."

"So," Michonne said, "what will you do to fix the problem?"

"I didn't say we had a problem. You did. And what happens outside of my purview is outside of my purview."

"What the hell, man?" Daryl questioned. "You're either with us or y'ain't. You're sittin' over there talkin' out both sides of your mouth."

"I think I've made my position very clear," Gregory said, knowing he couldn't argue anymore. "And I want to thank all of you for not being here today and not having this meeting with me or being seen on your way out. In other words, go out the back."

"Alright, Gregory," Clary sighed, throwing her hands up in defeat. "You win. We get it. _You_ don't want any part in what _you_ started. So we'll figure it out ourselves. And when we win, do you even want to know?"

"What I want is plausible deniability. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes, I know what it means," Clary growled. "I'll tell you what, Gregory. I know things. I know a _lot_ of things that you don't know that I know. And if we do get caught… I have no fucking problem telling these things to Negan." A dangerous grin crossed her face as she leaned down to look in Gregory's eyes. "Whether we win or lose, Gregory, you are _fucked._ Because either way, the victor will know what you did. Or rather, _didn't_ do."

"Clary," Steve said, resting a hand on her arm. "That's enough."

"You're right," Clary said after a moment, straightening. "That is enough. We're done here."

Clary followed alongside Steve as we exited, Rosita remarking, "Fucking walking ballsack."

"Does he even have any?" I questioned. "Balls, I mean?"

"Wanna knock that idiot's teeth out," Sasha added.

"You and me both, sister," Clary said, to which Stark and Nat nodded their agreement.

"Yeah, well, we don't need him anyway," Daryl said as we gathered in the foyer.

"That's right," Rick agreed. "'Cause we have Maggie, Sasha, and Jesus here."

"And," Maggie started as the door opened, "Enid."

We turned to see Enid walking in, starting, "Hey, um…"

"What's wrong?" Sasha questioned.

"Nothing," Enid answered. "Just… come outside. There's something you're gonna want to see."

I glanced towards Steve, who simply shrugged. We followed her out the front, rather than the back as Gregory wanted us to. A group of Hilltop residents stood before us, prompting Maggie to question, "What's going on?"

A black woman with short hair stepped forward, fiddling with her hands. Her voice shook a little due to nervousness as she said, "Hey, if you don't remember, I'm Bertie. And I owe my life to you all, twice over. A bunch of us do. Enid says that you want Gregory to get us to fight the Saviors with you. Is that true?"

"Yes," Maggie answered.

"Do you think that we could really beat them?" Maggie nodded. "Enid says that you could show us the way. I'm ready."

Immediately, the rest of the group piped up, joining our newly formed coalition. "Alright," Clary said. "The revolution's begun."

We continued on down the path, Stark remarking, "Well, it's a start, I guess."

"We'll get more," Sasha said. "But…"

"It won't be enough," Clary finished. "I've got most of their numbers. We need _a lot_ more."

"Well, we find the right stuff, maybe it won't be about the numbers," Daryl proposed.

"Yeah, we could just blow 'em up," I agreed.

"Burn 'em to the ground."

"You said there weren't just soldiers with the Saviors," Tara said. "There were workers there. People that didn't have a choice."

"Yeah, but we gotta win," Daryl objected.

"We need more hands," Rick said. "Another group. Negan has outposts. The geography, the distance, it works against us."

"Wait a minute," Clary said. "If we play our cards right, it just might work for us. But we'll have to be _real_ careful. And no matter what, we need more people."

"I can see gears turning," Stark said. "What's going on in that screwed up brain of yours?"

"Buck, Steve, I know y'all were in Europe, but what do y'all remember about what was going on in the Pacific?"

"Island hopping," Steve said as it dawned on him.

"Clary, you're a genius!" Jesus exclaimed.

"Debatable," Stark said, and he grinned when she glared at him. "I'm kidding. That's really smart, Clary."

"Uh, what are the rest of us non-super people missing?" Tara questioned.

"We'll hop between bases," Clary explained. "Back in World War II, the U.S. hit the bases on the outer islands controlled by Japan, took them first. They would jump from one island and then hit another, working their way in until they reached Japan. That's what we have to do. Hit the farthest outposts first, one after another. We don't give 'em time to recover. We go in, take 'em all out. We work our way in until we can take out the _Death Star_. But we gotta plan first."

"We need to know the places where they'll be," Rick said. "We can make Deanna's place our H.Q. That's where we'll plan. We gotta get back. They'll come looking for Daryl and Clary. We need to be there."

"You don't have to get back," Jesus said, causing us all to stop before we could leave. "Not yet." He held up a walkie-talkie. "It's one of theirs. Long range. We can listen in. Keep track of 'em."

"So, if we're not going back, what _are_ we doing then?" Michonne inquired.

"I think it's time I introduced you to some other people, one of which you already know. Do you remember T'Challa? He's a… protector and the right-hand man of Ezekiel. King Ezekiel."

In unison, Rick and Steve questioned, "'King'?"

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

"It's called the Kingdom?" Rick questioned as we pulled to a stop, upon Jesus's instruction.

"Yeah," Jesus said with a nod, climbing out after the leader. "I didn't name it."

Steve looked around, questioning, "How much farther?"

"Well, technically, we're already here." Michonne followed him out, while the others remained in the vehicle. "I mean, we're always here, but… here we are. The Kingdom. Well, its outer edge."

"Hey, what the hell we waitin' on?" Daryl questioned, sticking his head out of the window.

"Them," Jesus answered, pointing to two men on horses.

One of the riders called, "Who dares trespass on the sovereign land of the—holy shit! Jesus, is that you?"

"Alvaro," Jesus greeted with a nod.

The other rider questioned, "Who are these people, Paul?"

"Hi, Richard, nice to see you," Jesus said.

"Yeah, you too," Richard said. "Your friends, who are they?"

"This is Rick Grimes, the leader of a like-minded community. That's Captain Steve Rogers, but you probably know him as Captain America. These are some of their people. We would like to request an audience with King Ezekiel."

"Get out of the car," Richard ordered. "Like-minded how, Jesus?"

We all climbed out, and I remained on one side, digging the Falcon wings out of the truck.

Jesus answered, "We live, we trade, we fight the dead. Sometimes others."

I rounded the back of the SUV, strapping the Falcon wings to myself. "Stop right there!" Richard shouted.

I looked up, holding my hands up in surrender, as Richard and Alvaro aimed their guns at me. Immediately, everyone else jumped to my defense. Steve covered me with his shield, and I heard Stark activating his hand blasters beside me.

"Richard!" Jesus barked. He reached towards the knight, but his footing told me that he was ready to fight if need be. "Put the goddamn gun down, or else you'll have some pissed off Avengers coming after you. And they're _nothing_ compared to Bucky and Daryl."

"She's with the Saviors," Alvaro hissed.

"She's with us," Stark quickly retorted, making his way closer to Steve and I. "They took her, so she played the part. She got us information."

Alvaro and Richard shared a look before lowering their weapons. Richard ordered, "Line up."

"This is a waste of time," Daryl said. "Come on. Let's go."

"Maybe it is. Maybe you're right. The King is a busy man. And it's a dangerous world. We don't usually allow a pack of strangers with a former _Savior_ in their midst to waltz through our door."

"She is _not_ a Savior," Bucky growled.

"Buck, stand down," I said. "Steve, lower the shield. It's okay."

"We want to make the world less dangerous," Michonne said. "We're all here to show the King how serious we are about that."

"Car stays outside," Richard said after a minute. "Hand over your guns."

"We only have three," Rick told him. Rick, Carl, and I handed over our guns; and Richard gestured for us to follow him.

Natasha moved to walk beside me as we entered the Kingdom, allowing Steve and Bucky to stay on either side of us. "I don't know how well I like this," Nat said. "These people have tried to kill you in the five minutes we've been here."

"Natasha, we need them," I replied. "I don't give a shit what they did. If Jesus says they got men, then we need 'em. Don't matter what they tried to do to me." I glanced towards Nat. "And honestly? It's probably all Richard holdin' a grudge 'cause I let Jared take a free shot at him. The others won't nearly be as bad."

* * *

I was wrong. The rest of the Kingdommers that knew who I was reacted the same as Richard and Alvaro. Benjamin and Jerry immediately drew on me, the tiger growling as Ezekiel shot to his feet. "Put your hands in the air, now!" Ezekiel ordered.

"Whoa, hey, guys!" I exclaimed, stepping in front of my group with my hands raised. "Look, I don't want trouble!"

"How the hell did you get inside the gates?!" Jerry questioned.

"She's with me!" Jesus shouted, rushing forward and coming to my defense.

"Benjamin, Jerry, stand down," T'Challa said, stepping forward. "The Executioner is not a Savior. She was a prisoner."

"T'Challa, Jesus, you'll vouch for her?" Ezekiel questioned.

Jesus nodded as T'Challa answered, "Yes, I will."

"I will, too," Morgan added, tearing his eyes off of me a moment later. "I knew her before I came here, your Majesty."

Ezekiel nodded once, then waved a hand. Benjamin and Jerry lowered their guns. "King Ezekiel," I began, walking further down the aisle of the auditorium to stand before the King on stage. "I deeply apologize for my lack of action in stopping any conflict between the Saviors and your men." I knelt, bowing my head. "I beg your forgiveness, your Highness."

"We don't do that here," T'Challa said. "Rise."

I lifted my head, looking up at Ezekiel. He nodded once, and I rose. "My King, these are my _actual_ people," I said. "You already know Jesus. That's… hey, Rick, you with me, buddy?"

Rick started, "He's got… that's a tiger."

"Oh, right, sorry, I forgot to mention that," Jesus apologized.

I turned back to Ezekiel as he sat back on his throne, continuing, "That's our leader, Rick Grimes, and his second in command, Captain Steve Rogers. That's Tony Stark, Iron Man, and Sergeant Bucky Barnes, former Winter Soldier. And of course, Natasha, the Black Widow. That's my big brother, Daryl. That's Michonne, Carl, Rosita, Tara, and Sasha. And I'm Cheyenne Dixon, but my friends call me Clary."

"Jesus has brought you to become new allies," Ezekiel guessed.

"Correct, your Majesty," Jesus said. "They're from a place called Alexandria."

"I welcome you _all_ to the Kingdom, good travelers," Ezekiel said, and I had to smile just a bit as he made sure to make me feel included as well. "Now, what brings you to our fair land? Why do you seek an audience with the King?"

I stepped aside as Rick made his way forward, stepping into one of the rows with Jesus. Rick said, "King Ezekiel, Alexandria, the Hilltop, and the Kingdom… all three of our communities have something in common. We all serve the Saviors. We've fought them once and we won." Rick suddenly stopped, shaking his head. "No, it wasn't the rest of us. It was her. Clary Dixon, the Executioner. She's taken out an entire compound _by herself._ We thought the threat was gone, but we didn't know then what we know now. She only beat one outpost."

"Look, King Ezekiel, you've been dealin' with the Saviors longer than we have," I said. "You dealt with them longer than I was with them. But I know them, too. We both know that they rule through violence and fear." Ezekiel turned his attention to Jesus, glaring at him, but I stopped him before he could reprimand Jesus. "My King, Jesus did not tell my people really anything other than what I could've told them. I know your people don't know, that's why we met way out there. I understand not wanting your people to know, not wanting them to live in fear. It's a horrible life, but the rest of my people do not have the luxury of not knowing what's on the other side of those walls."

"Your Majesty, I only told them because I think we can help each other," Jesus explained. "I want you to hear Rick's plans."

Ezekiel questioned, "And what plans have you, Rick Grimes of Alexandria?"

Rick stepped forward, answering, "We came to ask the Kingdom, to ask you, to join us in fighting the Saviors. Fighting for freedom, for all of us."

"What you are asking is very serious."

Michonne chimed in, "Several of our people, good people, were killed by the Saviors. Brutally."

"Who?" Morgan questioned.

I bowed my head, admitting, "He made me kill Abraham. He tried to make me kill Glenn, and then he killed him when I couldn't."

Jesus squeezed my shoulder, and Bucky reached over, taking my metal hand in his. Rosita added, "Spencer, Olivia."

"Denise," I continued.

"Eugene was taken. They took Daryl and Clary until she and Jesus busted them out. Every second they're out here, they're a target. You gonna say you were right?"

Morgan shook his head. "No. I'm… I'm sorry. I'm real sorry they're gone."

"Negan murdered Glenn," Rick said. "He _forced_ the Executioner to murder Abraham."

"Rick, you can say it was me," I said. "I was still in there. It wasn't just the Executioner that beat him to death. And it wasn't just the Executioner who didn't stop Negan beating Glenn to death."

"They terrorized the Hilltop," Sasha interjected. "Set loose walkers just to make a point."

"I used to think the deal was something we could live with," Jesus said, dropping his hand from my shoulder as he faced Ezekiel. "A lot of us did. But that's changing. So let's change the world, your Majesty."

"I want to be honest about what we're asking," Rick said. "My people are strong, but there's not enough of us. We have Avengers, we have super soldiers, and we have regular people that are willing to fight—but we still lack the numbers. We don't have guns, either—not enough, at least. Not a lot of weapons, period."

"We have people," Richard chimed in. "And weapons. If we strike first, together, we can beat them. Your Majesty, no more waiting for things to get worse beyond what we can handle. We set things right. The time is now."

"Your Majesty, what happens when you lose someone you love?" I questioned, stepping out of the aisle and standing at the edge of the stage, looking up at him. "What happens when things get worse beyond what you can handle? We need to do this. Look, we don't have enough _anything_ but a will to fight. We need you and your people, King Ezekiel."

Ezekiel stared down at me for a long, silent minute before turning to Morgan, inquiring, "Morgan, what say you?"

"People will die," Morgan said after a moment. "A lot of people, and not just the Saviors. If… if we can find another way, we have to. Maybe it's just about Negan, just capturing him, holding him. Maybe—"

"No," Steve interrupted, his voice echoing through the auditorium, demanding more respect than even Ezekiel's voice. "People _will_ die. That's the price of freedom, and it's a price I'm willing to pay. I look around this room and I know the people that came here with me, they're willing to pay it, too. If we're the only ones, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet we're not."

Ezekiel was quiet, allowing Steve's words to sink in. Finally, he stood, announcing, "The hour grows late. Captain Steve Rogers and Rick Grimes of Alexandria, you have given the King much to ponder."

"Well, when I was a kid, my mother told me a story," Rick said, and I stepped aside as he took a few steps forward to look up at the King. "There was a road to a kingdom, and there was a rock in the road. And people would just avoid it, but horses would break their legs on it and die, wagon wheels would come off. People would lose goods they'd be coming to sell. That's what happened to a little girl. The cask of beer her family brewed fell right off. It broke. Dirt soaked it all up, and it was gone. That was her family's last chance. They were hungry. They didn't have any money. She just… sat there and cried, but… she wondered why it was still there… for it to hurt someone else. So she dug at that rock in the road with her hands till they bled, used everything she had to pull it out. It took hours. And then...when she was gonna fill it up, she saw something in it. It was a bag of gold."

"Alright," Jerry said, and Benjamin and Ezekiel both shot him a look.

"The king," Rick continued, "had put that rock in the road because he knew the person who dug it out, who did something, they deserved a reward. They deserved to have their life changed for the good, forever."

Ezekiel was quiet, closing his eyes and bowing his head. _Rick and Steve are getting through to him, _I thought. _We might stand a chance at winning this._

Ezekiel announced, "I invite you all to sup with us and stay till the morrow."

"Yeah, we need to get back home," Rick argued.

"I shall deliver my decree in the morn."

"Thank you, your Majesty," I said, dipping my head in a bow, "for your hospitality. Thank you for listening to us. Until tomorrow, my King."

I turned, following the rest of my people out of the auditorium. Once we were far enough away that we wouldn't be heard, Stark joked, "I think somebody got a little _too_ into LARPing."

"'LARPing'?" Daryl repeated. "Seriously? Nerd."

Jesus objected, "Hey, I LARPed when I was a teenager."

"My point exactly."

"Honestly, Darry, _you _know what LARPing is," I said. "So who's the _real_ nerd here?"

"Ooh, burn," Nat deadpanned.

"Seriously, what kind of vibe are you guys getting from him?" Stark questioned. "I mean, he can't be for real, can he?"

"I dunno," Bucky said. "Dude's got a tiger."

"And you have a metal arm, but you're not running around protecting the world's tiniest bridge and insisting 'tis but a scratch."

I coughed to cover up my laughter, clearing my throat as I said, "Ezekiel might have a tiger, but he's still a dude in charge of a place dealin' with the Saviors. Steve, what you said, I think you got through to him, or at least hit close to home. We did give him a lot to think about, but I have to believe that he'll be on our side."

"You think he'll side with the Saviors?" Nat questioned.

"No, that's not what I meant. He won't go with them, so he's got two options; join us or sit out of the fight. That is a man that wants to protect what he has. Ezekiel _will_ come to our side."

* * *

_**~Bucky~**_

"Prince T'Challa, I hope I'm not interrupting," I said as I approached the Black Panther. He stood on a balcony, looking up at the stars.

"No, no, of course not," T'Challa said, gesturing for me to join him. "Just T'Challa is fine, my friend."

"T'Challa," I repeated and received a nod. "I didn't get a chance to speak to you at dinner. I wanted to thank you for speaking up for Clary. And also forgiving me. Even though I wasn't the man that killed your father, you thought that I was for years. I know that kind of hatred isn't easy to let go of, I know it took Stark a long time because it was the Winter Soldier that killed his parents. So I wanted to thank you for that."

"I have seen many's vengeance consume them," T'Challa replied. "I am done letting it consume me."

"You may want to consider vengeance again, if your King decides to join us. We will lose some people, and I've learned there's nothing that motivates someone more than the thought of losing a loved one."

"Is that why you fight, Barnes?" T'Challa questioned. "You fear losing her?"

"I promised her when we met that I'd never let anything happen to her. When we got to Alexandria, I was too scared to really go beyond the walls in case Hydra was still out there. They were, and I wasn't there when Clary needed me. I spent three months thinking that she was dead, mourning her, searching for her body. Daryl got heat stroke and we had to drag him off the watchtower before he collapsed at least three times because he spent every waking moment up there, praying she'd return."

"I would say I'm sorry for your loss, but she's still here."

"Yeah, she is," I said, nodding with a small smile. "She's still here." I turned to walk back inside, then paused, looking back at the Wakandan prince. "It's late, T'Challa, and we got a big day tomorrow. You should get some sleep."

"As should you, Barnes. Good night."

I bid T'Challa good night, then walked back inside, down the hall to the room Steve and I had been given for the night. I walked inside, then crossed my arms over my chest, leaning against the doorframe, when I saw that Steve had company.

"She was looking for you," Steve explained in a whisper, glancing down at the sleeping Clary at his side. "You sleep with her, Buck. I'll go crash with Carl."

"Hey, lay on top of the kid and crush him for me," I told Steve as he left.

"You got it," Steve confirmed, kissing my cheek before heading to the next room. A muffled cry followed a minute later, and I chuckled as I heard Steve reprimanding Carl for his language. I kicked off my boots, climbing into bed beside Clary. She jerked awake, and I leaned over as I saw the fear in her eyes.

"Hey, Clary, what's going on?" I questioned. "You with me? You okay?"

I laid back as she turned, latching onto me as she laid on my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, gently rubbing her back as I guessed, "Nightmare?"

"I dreamt I was back there," she whispered.

"I won't let Negan take you again, Clary."

"I was back with Hydra."

My grip tightened around her, and I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, assuring her, "We're safe here, Clary. They're _gone_, and even if they're not, they won't find us. We'll be okay. We all will."

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

The present Avengers flanked around me as we followed Richard through the Kingdom, still somewhat wary despite T'Challa vouching for me. Natasha fixed everyone that looked at me with a cold glare, causing them to look away with a certain uneasiness that had them watching to see if she followed after they walked away.

"Nat, you're scaring people," I whispered.

"Good."

Richard led us to a training area where a number of people were practicing archery. I glanced at Nat. "Where's Clint when you need him?"

She let out a quiet, short amused chuckle before going back to glaring at everyone. I shook my head, watching the Kingdommers as they trained. Some folks were sitting on a stool, crutches lying near them because they were missing a leg. Others wore a metal prosthetic arm, giving pointers to those that still had both arms. These were people that went through some of what I went through, people that had been bitten out there and lived to tell the tale.

"This is life here," Ezekiel narrated as he joined us. "Every day. But it came at a cost. And I wanted more of this. I wanted to expand, to create more places like this. Men and women lost their limbs. Children lost their parents because I sent them into battle against the wasted when I did not need to."

"This is different," Rick tried.

"It isn't."

"It is. The dead don't rule us. The world doesn't look like this outside your walls. People don't have it as good. Some people don't have it good at all."

"I have to worry about my people," Ezekiel simply said.

"You call yourself a damn king?" Daryl questioned as Rick turned away, shaking his head, frustrated at getting nowhere. "You sure as hell don't act like one."

Ezekiel turned to Daryl, making his way over to him. "All of this came at a cost. It was lives." He gestured to his people, ones missing limbs. "Arms, legs."

"You think we don't know about losin' arms and legs?" Daryl returned, stepping forward and standing toe to toe with the King. "You're preachin' to the damn choir. My baby sister lost her arm out there, nearly lost her life. We know the cost."

"Daryl, back off," Steve advised.

"T'Challa, please," I tried, looking to the defender, who had been quiet as his king spoke.

T'Challa sighed softly, lowering his voice so the civilians wouldn't hear. "The peace we have with the Saviors _is_ uneasy. You know that."

"But it _is_ peace," Ezekiel interjected. "We have to hold onto that. I have to try."

"My King, please," I pleaded, breaking free from my guard of Avengers. "_Please._ There's a war coming, and we need everyone we can get, trained or not. It doesn't matter if they're a soldier or a civilian. What matters is we have them, because without them, we'll lose. We won't survive. And even with them, we may not survive; but that's what it might take. I know I have _no right_ asking you to lay your life on the line, but I'm asking anyway. I know I'm asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high. It always has been. Please, your Majesty, don't hang us out to dry."

"I'm not," Ezekiel replied. "Though the Kingdom cannot grant you the aid you so desire, the King is sympathetic to your plight. I offer you, my friend, and your brother Daryl asylum for as long as you two require it." Ezekiel looked around at the rest of our people. "Your friends will be safe here. The Saviors do not set foot inside our walls."

"How long do you think that's gonna last?" Daryl challenged. He shook his head in disbelief at Ezekiel and T'Challa before stalking off, leaving the rest of us to follow. Richard and Morgan accompanied us as we walked to the gate, and I shushed Daryl when he tried to tell me something so I could hear the conversation behind me.

"You can try to change his mind, but you won't," Rick said.

"Then you can stay," Morgan replied. "We can talk."

"How many people do we have?" Richard inquired. "To fight? I'll go with you."

"We don't even have enough to take on one outpost, face to face, yet," Rick answered.

"You have Avengers, assassins."

"Still don't have the numbers."

"So the Kingdom has to get involved, or the Saviors will always be in charge. It isn't about soldiers. We're making them stronger. The more food we give them, the more arms, the more everything, every day any of us give them something, they become harder and harder to beat."

Richard was right. The Saviors took and took from every community they had control of, taking what they wanted and leaving scraps for everyone else.

"Open up," Daryl called to guards on the gate as we reached it. "We're gone."

Our people waited for the gates to swing open, and Rick turned to my brother and I. "No, you two aren't," he said.

Daryl and I shared a look before he said, "We ain't stayin' here."

"You have to," Bucky said, stopping beside Rick as he and Steve started out.

"It's the smartest play," Rick added. "You know it is. _Try _to talk to Ezekiel. Or stare him into submission, whatever it takes. We'll be back soon. Until then, you two are here."

"What? No!" I protested, my throat starting to close up as Rick walked away. "No! I just got back to you! I don't wanna leave y'all again!"

I knew it hurt Bucky to say it, but he swallowed and told me, "You'll be safe here. You both will be."

"B-Bucky, no!" Bucky shook his head at me, taking Steve's hand as they started toward the gate. "Stark! Stark!" I caught up with Stark, walking backward as I tried to get him to stop. "Tony, please! Tony, don't leave us here!"

Stark rested his hand on my cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that were forming in my eyes. "We'll be back for you in no time. Don't you worry, Indy."

I clutched his hand in mine, tears running down over our hands. "I don't want you to go, Tony. I don't wanna be left behind."

"We're not leaving you behind," Stark assured me. "We're just splitting up for now. You and Daryl, you're staying here to try to get through to the king. And you'll come back to us when it's safe." Stark pressed a kiss to my forehead. "It won't be long. I promise."

Stark stepped around me, dropping my hand as he walked out the gate. The rest of the group, minus Daryl and I, followed the billionaire out. Daryl stepped up beside me, promising, "We'll be okay. It's been just us before, you know."

I looked up at him for a moment. "But now we have all of them. We have a bigger family that we need to be there for."

"Maybe this is where we need to be?" Daryl suggested. "Getting ready for the fight from this end?"

"Hmm, maybe," I mused. I took Daryl's hand in mine as the gate closed, swinging shut just as Bucky turned around to look at me. Never once did I think that the one thing that could separate us would be our own people.


	7. 6: Ragnarok

_**Chapter 6: Ragnarok**_

_**~Thor~**_

I picked up the glass of scotch from the table, leaning down to look in the mirror. With my free hand, I reached up to touch the eyepatch around my missing right eye. A souvenir from my battle with Hela.

I spotted Loki in the mirror, standing behind me.

"It suits you," he complimented. "Far better than it suited Father."

I chuckled. "You know, maybe you're not so bad after all, brother."

"Maybe not."

"Thank you." I tossed the lid of the decanter towards him, saying, "If you were here, I might actually give you a hug."

He caught it.

"I'm here, brother," Loki said.

I gave him a smile as Loki crossed the room to meet me, pouring him a glass as well. He placed the topper back on the decanter, and I handed him his glass. Loki thanked me with a nod, taking a sip as we turned to look out the window.

For the moment, we were just drifting in space. We didn't have a set course. We were still trying to process the loss of our home and everything that had happened over the past week.

I looked to my brother, questioning, "What do you think we should do?"

"I was getting ready to ask you the same," Loki replied. "I don't know."

"Is there anything you'd like to do?"

Loki glanced at me, then out the window. "I don't think there's a planet where you or I haven't made an enemy."

"I think you've made most of those enemies," I teased.

"Me? I'm not the one that goes around smashing everything in sight."

"Hey, don't bring Hulk into this."

Loki let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Where are you thinking of, Thor?"

"Well… I had been considering going back to Earth."

"Back to Earth?" Loki questioned. "With Heimdall dead no thanks to Hela's army, we have no idea as to what's coming."

"Do you have a better idea?" Loki shook his head. "Then to Midgard it is. We'll drop anyone that wants to return to their home planet off on the way. I know Korg and Meek wanted to go home."

Loki returned to staring out the window, quiet for a while. Eventually, he broke it by asking, "Do you really think it's a good idea to go back to Earth?"

"Yes, of course," I replied. "The people of Earth love me. I'm very popular."

Loki sighed. "Let me rephrase that. Do you really think it's a good idea to bring _me_ back to Earth?"

"Probably not, to be honest. But I wouldn't worry, brother. I feel like everything is going to work out fine."

* * *

_**~Loki~**_

"Something is wrong," I said, looking out the window as the ship landed in the middle of a destroyed city. "Something is very, very wrong."

"Loki, come on," Thor said, already starting for the door.

"Thor, I don't think this is a good idea," I said but had no choice to follow him. We stepped out into the ruined city, turning on our heels as we looked around. Off to our right, an obelisk that once stood tall was broken off, only about a quarter of the monument remaining upright. What had once been the top was lying in the pool nearby, and the monument at the opposite end of the pool had collapsed in on itself.

"What the hell happened?" I asked. "Were they at war?"

"I don't know," Thor replied. "How could the world have gone to ruin so quickly? We were here, what, eleven days ago?"

"Time passes differently in space. I was on Sakaar for weeks before you showed up, but it was only minutes for you, remember?"

Thor pointed to a group of people, suggesting, "They may know what's going on. I'll be right back."

"Brother, that may not be wise," I tried, but he was already on his way to the group. "Thor!"

"I know what I'm doing, Loki," he replied, but I knew that he didn't. I had a bad feeling about it, about those people. I quickly caught up to Thor, and I kept a dagger in my hand, prepared for what I feared.

We heard the snarling seconds after the stench of death hit us, and Thor and I both realized that those people weren't human. We turned to go back to our people, but these people, as I lacked a better word, had already noticed us. One was closer than the others, and it stumbled forward. I drove my knife into its temple, and it stopped growling, dead.

"Look at this," I said as Thor and I knelt by the body. "It's decaying. This person was already dead. These people, they're dead _and_ walking."

"Yeah, dead and walking towards us!" Thor replied.

I turned, finding the group all stumbling towards us now. "Go, go, go!" I shouted.

I pushed Thor to his feet as I got to mine, running to return to the Asgardian survivors. They had ventured out from the ship to look around, too many for us to get all of them inside before the dead reached us.

"Val, Banner!" I called. "We need you!"

"What's going on?" Banner questioned, then pointed to the dead. "Are those people?!"

"Not anymore," I said as Thor and I reached the others. Thor took charge, trying to get the Asgardians inside, while I stopped beside Banner. I rested my hand on his shoulder, telling him, "I think we're going to need the big guy."

"It's time to get angry, Banner," Thor called over his shoulder.

Val—the last surviving member of the Valkyries, Asgard's warriors, who refused to tell us her name—drew her Dragonfang, turning it in her hand as the dead neared. I drew my daggers once more, and Banner growled beside me as he started to turn green. Thor rejoined us on the front lines, choosing to fight rather than herd the Asgardians into the ship.

We launched into battle against the dead as they reached us, the Hulk overtaking Banner and smashing the dead into the ground. We fought, but the dead were definitely outnumbering us. Every time one fell, two more seemed to take its place.

Then the screaming started.

I spun on my heel, finding the dead breaking past our line of defense and attacking the innocent civilians. I guess it didn't really matter to the dead, whether they were trying to escape or trying to fight. "No," I whispered.

"Loki!" Val shouted, and I spun back around to find one of the dead nearly on me. I quickly killed it and the others that followed behind it. We were pushed back, trying desperately to keep the dead from claiming any more victims.

We were failing.

The people under our protection were dying.

"Get onto the ship!" Thor shouted to them, ducking behind Hulk, Val, and I to push them on. "Hurry up now!"

I threw my dagger, killing one that was sneaking up on Val. She gave me a nod of thanks and returned my dagger by repaying the favor, killing one of the dead that nearly grabbed me while I killed another. I pulled my dagger out of its head, stumbling back as more converged. "There's too many!" Val shouted. "Fall back!"

"We can't fall back any farther!" I shouted back. "Hulk!"

Hulk ignored me, spinning in a circle as he tried to fight off the dead surrounding him. He roared, and I pushed into the herd to try to help him. "Loki!" Val cried.

"We need him!" I shouted back. "Come on!"

Val followed me, and Thor managed to get the door to the ship closed, saving who he could. "Loki!" Thor shouted. "Look out!"

I let out a cry as one of the dead attacked me from the side, falling to the ground as I fought it off above me. I pushed it back, its black teeth snapping at my face. Through the stench of rot, I could smell something metallic. It was Thor, I realized as the first bolt of lightning hit the undead being on top of me.

I pushed its body off as Thor rose above us, summoning lightning. I ran to Val, dropping down beside her as we covered our heads as Thor took out the rest of the dead. He landed on the ground once it was over, pushing himself up from his knees. Hulk stumbled over to us, shrinking as he changed back to Banner. Val and I caught him between us, supporting him as Val questioned, "What the hell was that? Thor?"

"This is not the Earth that I once knew," Thor said. "It's what the Midgardians call Hell."

* * *

A year passed between the day we brought our people to Earth and the day that I knew that we had to leave them behind. We didn't have to leave Earth, we just had to leave our people.

It wasn't like a majority of them hadn't already left us. We lost some to the dead, more took off on their own. Thor was losing the support of his people. He tried his hardest to keep them safe and was a good leader, but they didn't see that. They saw his failures.

It didn't matter to them that Thor had gotten us to a small housing development and managed to put up walls around the houses, keeping us safe. No, they saw his failures. They saw the people that didn't come back from runs, the fact that it was our decision to come to Earth. They blamed us for the end of Asgard, for taking refuge on a planet where the dead wanted to kill us and the living weren't much better.

And they saw Thor as a ruler that needed to be overthrown by any means necessary.

I was in the house that served as our pantry and storage, sorting through the newest findings from the latest supply run. Normally, that wasn't my job, but the woman in charge of keeping track of our supplies was sick and I volunteered to take her place.

I guess the usurpers hadn't gotten the memo that I was the one in the supply room that day.

I heard people enter, but I didn't speak. I figured if they needed something important, they'd come to find me. I only heard a few words in the beginning, but I did catch my name, along with Thor's and Val's. I crept closer, keeping quiet as I spied on them.

I recognized these people. They were once commoners on Asgard, people that had never even seen the king in the flesh before Ragnarok.

"He needs to go," one of them was saying.

The man to his right added, "And that brother of his."

"Who's not actually his brother," a woman interjected. "He's a frost giant. Think of that! A frost giant sat on the throne of Asgard! The disgrace!"

I glanced away. _I am a frost giant,_ I thought, glancing down at my hand as it turned blue, _but I am an Asgardian. Thor is my brother. Odin considered me his son. Frigga was my mother in every way but blood._

"So how do we do it?" the second man questioned. "A gun would be too loud, attract far too much attention."

"Well, we can't use a knife," the woman replied. "He'd know we're coming and stop us."

"Use a silencer," the first man decided. "Use a gun, we have the advantage of distance. There's the sound, but that's what silencers are for."

The woman swallowed before whispering, "Will a gun kill a frost giant?"

"Well, I wouldn't see why it wouldn't. Get the word out to everyone. We'll do it soon."

I was overhearing plans for a coup, plans to kill my brother and me.

"Oh, _shit,_" I whispered. I backed away from my hiding spot as quickly as I could, all the while keeping quiet so the usurpers wouldn't hear me.

As soon as I was sure I wouldn't be caught by the insurgents, I took off running. I ran out of the storage house and down the street, searching for my brother in a frenzy. I checked all the places where I could usually find him, but he was nowhere to be found. I checked our house again, finding him standing in the dining room with a map spread out on the table.

I was breathless as I halted in the living room, panting, "Thor."

"Loki, are you okay?" Thor inquired, immediately tearing his focus away from the map upon seeing my frantic state.

I shook my head, rushing, "We need to go. You need to get out of here—now!"

"What? Why? Are the dead upon us?"

"Worse. The commoners are planning to revolt. They're already planning to kill you."

"Who?"

"Too many of them for us to do anything about it. I don't know exactly how many. I don't know who all we can trust aside from Val and Banner. Maybe no one."

"Loki, are you completely sure about this? I can't just leave…"

"They'll kill you if you don't! They'll kill us both! We leave tonight."

* * *

We were on our own for two weeks. Val and Banner, the only two that we knew we could trust, joined Thor and me, running from our own people. Just the four of us against the rest of the world.

Two weeks. Then, it happened.

Banner was on watch. Val was heading to her tent for the night, and Thor and I sat on opposite sides of the fire. We both looked up as we heard a thump, but we assumed Banner just killed one of the undead (or walkers, as we began to call them) as no other sound followed.

Until it did.

Gunfire erupted in camp, and I felt a stinging pain at my temple as I toppled off the log I sat on. We dove for cover, and I raised my hand to my temple when I felt warm blood running down the side of my face. One of the bastards grazed me.

I caught sight of Val across the camp, trying to make her way to us. "Get out of here!" Val shouted, drawing her gun. "I'll hold them off!"

"Val!" I shouted. "Come on!"

Val glanced in the direction the gunfire came from, started to get up, then ducked back down as the gunfire resumed. "I can't!" she yelled. "I'm pinned down! You two, go!"

"Go!" Thor echoed. "I'm right behind you! Val, we'll be back!"

"Just go!"

I was lucky. I was on the side closest to the woods; closest to an escape route. Thor got up to follow me, then ducked back down, unable to cross. "Thor! Come on!" I tried.

"Go! I'll get Val and we'll find you! But go! Now!"

I hated to do it. I really did.

"Loki! Run!"

I didn't look back because if I did, I would've run straight into the line of fire to get them out. Thor had the better chance of getting Val and getting out, I had to remind myself.

I ran, and I didn't stop for anything. I didn't have any supplies, only my daggers, as my gun was out of bullets. I made it my mission to find Thor and Val, and I didn't do anything but search. Four days passed, and I didn't take time to sleep or eat. I felt myself growing weaker, but I couldn't find any supplies. So many of the nearby places were already hit by other survivors.

I stopped in the middle of the woods, trying to steady myself by leaning against a tree. I clutched onto it as I wondered if I was the only one left. _Banner's dead, and Thor and Val might be, too._

I closed my eyes for a moment, and I opened them when I heard that goddamn snarling. I drew my dagger, and I almost missed when I stabbed the walker in the head.

I knew I had to sleep, but I kept moving nonetheless. I came to a halt as I entered a clearing. It was a campsite, not our own, that had been abandoned for sometime. I climbed into the bed of the truck that was left behind, sitting on the tailgate. "Just a few minutes," I said to myself. "I just need to rest a few minutes."


	8. 7: The Would Be King

_**Chapter 7: The Would Be King**_

_**~Clary~**_

"Watch your feet," I reminded Henry yet again, noting his footing. "All it would take is one little hit and—" I grabbed Morgan's staff, swiping Henry's feet out from under him. "—you're dead."

Henry swallowed, his eyes darting to my metal arm. It was the first time since I started training him that I had made an attack. Henry had been scared of me because of my other half, and I didn't blame him, so he'd been sparring with Morgan. I told Henry, "When you're on the ground, young padawan, and your opponent is still above you, you're as good as dead. So what do you do to keep yourself from being dead?"

"Get to my feet," Henry answered.

"Or?"

"Bring you down to my level."

"How? Show me that you know." Henry hesitated, looking at my arm again. "I'll tell you what, kid. I'll keep my arm behind me, alright?"

Henry swung his staff from his spot on the ground, hitting me in the back of my knee and causing me to fall. I was back on my feet nearly right away, Henry having used the seconds that I was down to get back up, too. "Good," I complimented. "Remember, a fighter on the ground is—"

"A dead fighter," Henry finished as we slowly walked in a circle, neither of us making a move.

"Don't be scared, kid."

"You're the Executioner. You're equivalent to the Winter Soldier."

"I am," I said. "But I'm only sparring with one arm, and—" I passed Morgan's staff back to him. "—I won't even use a weapon. I don't want you to keep sparring with the same person, to become complacent and to think you know how your opponent will behave."

Henry attacked, and I dodged his staff as he made a jab towards me. I pushed it away, but Henry was ready, using the opposite end and swatting my arm. He never used a tactic like that in previous spars. "Nice!" I exclaimed, my arm stinging. "That's what I'm looking for!"

I ducked as he swung again, kicking him in the chest and sending him stumbling back. Henry shook it off, jabbing towards me with the end of his weapon. "Whoa, where's this fire been?!" I questioned.

Henry landed a hit on my stomach while I was too busy talking, causing me to double over. He swung, hitting my back and knocking me to the ground. I rolled away from his next jab, vaulting to my feet. I caught the bo staff with my hand on his next attack, holding it in place as I kicked him to the ground. I turned his own weapon against him, holding the end of it to his throat.

"Dead," I declared.

"Yeah, but I knocked you down."

I smirked. "Yeah, you did." I offered Henry my hand, pulling the kid to his feet. "You're gettin' there, kid. Not quite yet, but one day."

I patted his back as he passed me, noticing Ezekiel watching us. I nodded once to Morgan as I left, walking down the stairs and across the path. "Your Majesty," I greeted as I approached.

"My lady," Ezekiel replied.

I let out a short chuckle. "You do know I've got you all figured out, right? How it's nothing but a facade? How you're nothing but a bullshitter?" Ezekiel grabbed my arm, opening his mouth to warn me against calling out his bullshit; but I was faster, grabbing his collar with my metal hand. "Ah, ah, ah. I wouldn't do that if I were you. I am an assassin, remember?"

"I remember," Ezekiel said.

"Then I'd suggest letting go."

"You're a liar, Cheyenne."

But he dropped his hand nonetheless.

"A liar who teaches," I corrected, releasing him as I took a step back. "That's all any of us are. Liars, frauds, and cowards. Alexandria, the Kingdom, and the Hilltop."

"That makes Hilltop the cowards."

"Well, Gregory, specifically. Jesus is…" I had to stop because Jesus was always honest and never a coward. "Jesus is none of them. He's the Bishop in our game."

"Negan's the King."

"But we don't have a King. Or a Queen. Sure, you're the King, but there isn't one King in charge of this side."

"I think we do have one. A Queen, anyway. The most powerful piece on the board."

It takes a moment for me to realize that Ezekiel is talking about me. "No, no. I'm not the Queen. And if I am, I'm the Queen on Negan's side. The things I've done…"

"And yet, here you are. With us."

"With the liars, frauds, and cowards. There's nowhere else I'd rather be." I grabbed my crossbow, putting it on my shoulder. "I'm gonna go for a hunt. Until next time, your Majesty."

"You are, you know," Ezekiel called after me. "You're the most powerful piece we have."

I shook my head as I walked away, pausing by the gazebo steps to grab my bag. "Henry," I say. "Finish training with Morgan today. I'm gonna go see if I can get us some fresh meat for tonight."

* * *

_**~Daryl~**_

"Jerry said you had something for me," I stated, watching Richard as he practiced his archery skills. Perhaps I had spent too much time with Clint, but I thought that Richard definitely needed work. I didn't want to interrupt his practice for too long.

"Gonna have to start using these more," Richard said, gesturing to the bow in his hands as he looks at me over his shoulder. "The Saviors are smart enough to know that I shouldn't have a gun around them." Richard turned to fully face me, putting his bow down. "Morgan said you're a bowman. Saw your sister's bow. Run in the family?"

"I guess," I replied. "She's pretty fatal with knives nowadays. I mostly shoot with Hawkeye. He calls us 'bow bros.'"

Richard chuckled as he picked up a crossbow from the table beside him, offering it to me. "You might be needing this."

"Why?" I questioned, taking it.

"'Cause we want the same things," Richard said. "I need your help."

He went back to practicing with his bow, while I aimed my new crossbow down at the table to get a feel for it. I closed my eyes when I felt the familiar pressure against my shoulder. It wasn't the same as my old one, the one that Dwight took. I liked this new one, but I couldn't help but long for my old one because it was a gift from Clary. But I had to smile because goddamn, I missed this. _Watch out Negan. The Archer's back._

* * *

"The Saviors, they ride this road," Richard told me as we stepped off of it, walking around to the other side of a trailer. "If we see cars, it's them. They've been coming in packs of two or three lately. That's why I need you. I can't take them alone." We put our bags and guns down, Richard being careful with the Molotovs in his bag. "We're gonna hit 'em with the guns first, and then the Molotovs. Then back to the guns until they're dead."

"Why the fire?" I questioned.

"Needs to look bad. The Saviors who discover what's left... we want them to be angry."

"'Anger makes you stupid,'" I said, remembering Michonne's words to Tyreese. "'Stupid gets you killed.'"

"Exactly," Richard agreed. "I left a trail from here to the weapons cache I planted, to the cabin of someone that Ezekiel cares about."

"Who's that?" I questioned, not wanting any innocent people to die in this war. Maybe I could get them out, save them.

"It's just some loner he met. Sometimes he brings food."

_Oh, that's starting to sound a little too much like Carol for my liking_, I thought, beginning to not like this plan. "Why don't they live in the Kingdom?"

"I don't know. She lives out there, she'll die out there."

"It's a woman?"

"What does that matter? She's got more balls than you _and_ me." It definitely sounded like Carol at that. "She's gonna die either way. When the Saviors come and find their buddies dead, if they know their elbow from their asshole and can follow an obvious spoor, they're gonna go to the weapons cache and then to the cabin, and they're gonna attack this woman."

I demanded, "What's her name?"

"Maybe they kill her, maybe they don't, but it's gonna show Ezekiel what he needs to do."

"Her name," I repeated. "What is it?"

"She's tough," Richard continued, denying me the information I so desperately craved. "Maybe she'll live."

"Say her damn name!" I barked.

Richard sighed. "Carol. I hoped you didn't know her, but I didn't think you'd care 'cause you know what needs to happen."

I shook my head, starting past him. "Fuck no. Not her."

"Maybe she'll live," Richard repeated, trying to get me to continue on with him. But he blew that chance the moment he even _thought_ of threatening Carol. "Look, this is how this could happen. This is how we could get rid of the Saviors, how we all can have a future."

"Not without Carol. She's family."

"She's living out there on her own, just waiting to die!"

"Nah!" I barked, taking my bag and starting to walk away.

"If we don't do anything, a hell of a lot more people are gonna die, people who want to live!"

I turned back to him, getting in his face as I threatened, "You stay the fuck away from Carol, you hear me?"

I put my bag down as I heard cars in the distance, knowing that I was the only thing standing between Carol living and Richard getting her killed. Richard leaned around the trailer, checking the road before turning back to me. "It's them," he said. "Look, we can wait for things to go bad, we can lose people."

"I ain't losin' her."

"I'd rather choose our fate for ourselves, even if it is the hard thing."

"No," I repeated.

"Sorry," Richard lied, turning with his gun ready. I dropped my crossbow, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground. I was on top of him before he could get a chance to reach for his gun, determined to hold him down until the Saviors are gone. I started throwing punches when he kept struggling, and he managed to reach his gun. He hit me with it, knocking me off of him, but the dumbass pushed me right to my crossbow. _Sucks for him_.

I was on my feet and aiming my crossbow at him as he got his gun, turning to aim it at me. "There'll be more," Richard said. "Or those, they're gonna ride back this way later. We'll have another chance."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I growled.

"We're running out of time," he continued. "If you and your people want to move against the Saviors, you need to do it soon, and you need the Kingdom. What we have to do requires sacrifice one way or another. Guys like us, we've already lost so much."

"You don't know me," I said.

"I know that Carol, living on her own like that… she might as well be dead right now."

I lowered my crossbow, wanting Richard to see my face as I threatened, "If she gets hurt, she dies, if she catches a fever, if she's taken out by a walker… hell, if she gets hit by lightning… anything… if _anything_ happens to her, I'll kill you."

Richard lowered his gun then, telling me, "I would die for the Kingdom."

I growled, "Then why don't you?"

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

I was a good three miles from the Kingdom, at the very least, and I still hadn't picked up a fresh trail. The only trail I found was a good week old, the deer long gone. Maybe I was rusty, or maybe there was simply nothing around. I couldn't say I'd blame any of the animals for not staying one place, what with the walkers and the living hunting them.

I traveled what I assumed to be another half mile before I picked up a trail. It belonged to a person, one that was running judging by the imprint of tracks. From what, I had no clue, as there were no other tracks around, not even walker tracks.

I followed it, the trail disappearing as I came to a small stream. I crossed it, but there was no trail on the other side. Whoever made the tracks must've traveled in the stream for a way before getting out, but I had no way of telling which way they want. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to continue following them, not knowing who the tracks belonged to.

I kept walking, searching for anything that I could take back to the Kingdom. I came across an abandoned camp. It had been abandoned for quite some time, but I thought that perhaps there was still something around that I could scavenge and take back.

"What the hell is that?" I murmured, catching sight of something lying in a heap in the bed of the abandoned truck. A campfire pit was nearby, but the fire had long since gone out. I made my way towards the dark green heap, realizing that it was a person. I kept my hand on my gun, even though I assumed they were injured.

I reached the heap, finding dark hair covering the person's face. I gently moved the hair out of his face, and neither my fight or flight response worked when I recognized who was before me. Instead, I was instantly frozen in terror. When the initial shock passed, I got as far away as I could while still being close enough to get a good look at him.

At Loki, the god who attacked New York City and killed eighty people in two days.

Loki was alive—I could feel the warmth from his cheeks when I uncovered his face. If he hasn't woken up yet, he's definitely not faking unconsciousness. I got closer, carefully prodding his arm with my finger. No response. I rolled him onto his back, then jumped back, out of his reach. He still didn't move, and that was starting to worry me. _He's gotta be hurt,_ I thought. _But what could hurt a god?_

I checked his visible skin for any bites. Nothing. The rest of his skin was covered by leather armor, and if there was one thing that I knew, it was that walkers couldn't get through leather. Loki wasn't bitten, but something had happened to him. His face and neck were splattered with blood, and it was thicker on his torso and arms. I sighed, murmuring, "Oh, where's your brother?"

It's probably not my best idea, or my brightest, but I climbed up into the truck bed with Loki. I shook his arm, trying, "Loki. Loki, c'mon, wake up."

I was having no luck, no matter how many times I tried to wake him. I sighed, faced with a dilemma; I couldn't leave Loki in the middle of the forest, with night falling in just a few hours, but bringing him back wasn't a good option. "Fuck it," I muttered. "You're comin' with me."

So I got Loki out of the truck bed. I kept him on my right side, so he would be supported by the cybernetic arm with super strength. He was too tall for me to pick up and carry, but I did my best on the way back to the Kingdom. Walkers had started following me about a quarter of a mile away from the Kingdom's gate, but I didn't want to risk putting Loki down to even deal with two walkers. When I reached the Kingdom's gates, my arms full of Norse god, I shouted, "Hey! I could use some help here!"

Benjamin opened the gate when he saw that it was me, rushing down to join me after closing the gate once I was through, trapping the walkers on the other side. "Clary, what happened? Who is that?"

"I don't know," I lied, letting Loki's head droop forward so his identity would remain hidden as we moved through the Kingdom. "Get back to the gate. I can get him from here."

Benjamin nodded, returning to his post; and I continued deeper into the Kingdom. I made my way to the infirmary, the doctor opening the door for me when she saw me approaching. "Is he bitten?" the doctor inquired.

"No," I answered, adjusting Loki as he started to slip.

"What happened? Do you need help carrying him? I'll grab my stuff, take a look—"

"No!" I objected. "I mean, uh, it's just exhaustion. He's a little dehydrated. I'll take care of it. You take care of your other patients."

"Right now, he's my concern. You may be a soldier but you're not—"

"I've got him," I said, cutting the doctor off as I carried Loki into a room down the hall, the furthest from the door. I carefully deposited him onto the bed, sitting on the edge as I checked his pulse. Everything was normal, but he was still unconscious.

"Jesus," I murmured, gently turning his head to both sides as I looked at the dried blood. "What the hell happened to you, Loki?"

It took me a few tries before I figured out how to remove his armor, leaving him in a green undershirt. I got up, retrieving a bowl of water and a washcloth. I took a seat on the edge of the bed, putting the bowl on the nightstand after I wet the cloth. I began to gently wipe the dried blood from Loki's skin, starting with his hands and arms. I held his hands in mine as I washed them, studying the long and thin fingers of the hands coated both figuratively and literally with blood. His hands were mostly soft, with a few rough spots due to years of fighting. I moved up to his face, surprised to find that his jet black waves were as soft as they were when I moved his hair out of the way.

"Oh, thank God, you're okay," a voice blurted behind me. I turned from where I sat to see Daryl standing in the doorway, panting slightly. "All I heard was that you were in the infirmary. I was so scared."

"I'm fine, Daryl," I assured him. As he stepped further into the room, I went back to Loki, continuing to gently wipe the dried blood from his face.

"Who is that?" Daryl questioned. "The face… he looks familiar. Is he from the Kingdom?"

"Of Asgard," I muttered.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Daryl… do you remember that _thing_ that happened a few years ago, up in New York?"

"Yeah, that alien invasion that was led by—" Daryl cut himself off as the realization and recognition kicked in. "Clary, what the fuck are you doing?! Get away from him!"

"Daryl, he's out cold," I said. "He's not a threat."

"Are you forgetting that he killed eighty people in two days? Are you fucking crazy?"

"No, and I'm not forgetting. He's hurt. He was passed out in the middle of the woods when I found him. I have to help him."

"Goddammit, Clary. He's a fucking murderer! A serial killer!"

"I don't give a fuck what he was, and I sure as hell don't give a fuck that I'm one, too. That was then. This is now. I don't see a mass murderer. I see a man in trouble. A man who needs our help. _My_ help."

"What the hell are you thinking?" Daryl demanded. "What angle are you trying to play?"

"I'm not playing any angle," I said. Daryl gave me a look. "Okay, fine. Loki's a _god_, Daryl. He's powerful. More powerful than Bucky, Steve, T'Challa. Maybe we get him on our side. _Maybe _we have a chance at winning this thing."

"Okay, but what about Thor?" Daryl asked. "Where is he?"

"Thor's MIA at the moment. Loki might know where is he, but we'll have to wait until he wakes up." I look back down at Loki, finding a gash along his temple from a recent fight. "Shit. Make that _if_ he wakes up."

Daryl paused in the doorway when he started to leave, glancing back at me. "I hope you know what you're doing."

I scoffed. "Have you met me? My best friend is a hundred-year-old trained assassin and we're living in a world ruled by the dead. Do any of us have a _clue_ what we're doing?"

* * *

_**~Loki~**_

I woke to sunshine streaming in through a window, and it took me a moment to realize that the last thing that I remember did not involve being inside.

I lifted my head from the pillow, looking around. A chair was to my left, my armor slung over it, wiped clean of walker blood. I winced as I felt a slight tug in my arm when I tried to move it. A needle was inserted in my arm, attached to a bag hung beside my bed. "What the hell?" I questioned.

I pulled the needle from my arm, gently rubbing my thumb over the mark left behind. I pulled my sleeves down over my arms, looking down as I felt a weight on my thigh. There was a chair next to my bed, occupied by someone that had fallen asleep overnight. She had slumped onto the bed, her head coming to rest on my thigh. Raven hair was in her face, blocking my view of her. I pushed myself up and reached forward, moving her hair so I could see her face. The action, however, woke her instead.

Grey eyes shot open as she jerked back, exclaiming, "Oh, fuck!"

At the same time, I jerked my hand away and went for my knives, only to find that they weren't there. She almost fell to the floor as she scrambled to her feet, hands curling into fists as she prepared for a fight. When I saw that one of her hands was made of metal, I demanded, "Who the hell are you?"

"What the fuck happened to you?" she returned, not answering my question.

"Who are you?" I repeated. "Where am I? Where the hell is Thor?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing, Loki."

She knew who I was. "I don't know where my brother is. We were separated by marauders. I don't even know if he made it."

She lowered her fists, sitting in her chair again. She extended her hand, palm up, waiting for me to place mine in hers. I hesitated before resting my hand in hers, and she turned my arm over, noting the missing needle. "You really shouldn't have taken that IV out, dehydrated as you were."

"Oh."

"'s alright. We'll get you your strength back. Then we can start looking for Thor. I'd be more than happy to help you find him."

"Thank you…" I trailed off, not knowing her name.

"Clary," she obliged. "Well, it's Cheyenne Clarissa Dixon, but my friends call me Clary. You can call whatever you like, Loki."

"So you _do_ know who I am," I said softly.

"I do, but I don't care. I was forced to do some bad shit myself. So what you did, it doesn't matter to me. This world gives us a chance to do something different with our lives."

I studied her for a long time. She was a young human, definitely no older than eighteen. I questioned, "What have you _possibly_ done? You're so young."

"Well, that didn't matter to Hydra."

"Hydra?" I repeated.

Clary dropped my hand, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "Hydra's this organization. They made me into a super soldier."

"You're like the Captain."

"Not exactly. It's not just a super soldier they made me; it's an assassin, too. They tortured me and made me into an assassin... after they cut off my arm."

"They cut off your arm?" I asked in a whisper. "You were bitten."

"And 'saved' by Hydra. They made me into a weapon. My friends rescued me, then I was forced to join the Saviors when their leader killed my people. Negan killed one of my brothers and took the other as his prisoner. I got Daryl out—barely. And we ended up here, still on the run from the Saviors."

"Where… where is _here_?"

"This place is called the Kingdom. I, uh, I brought you here after I found you. Do you remember what happened?"

"Bits and pieces," I admitted. "Towards the end is where it gets spotty. I remember a camp, and the next thing that I know, I'm in the Kingdom."

"What happened before you got to the camp? You said that you and Thor were separated."

"Asgard, it was destroyed. Ragnarok came. The end of Asgard brought upon by Surtur and our sister, Hela."

"The goddess of death."

I nodded once. "The only survivors were those that we could get aboard a ship. We came to Earth, looking for refuge. Instead, we found destruction."

"How many?" Clary questioned. "How many did you lose?"

"Fifty-seven."

"I'm sorry."

"Then, the raiders came. More walkers. By then, we were down to about fifty. Not including the ones that took off on their own. Our people just kept taking off on their own. When Asgard was first destroyed, they looked to Thor to lead us. And then they left him."

"How'd you get separated?" Clary inquired.

"I found out the commoners were planning a revolt. They were going to kill my brother. So I got us out. Thor hated to go, but we had no other choice."

"Just you two?"

I shook my head. "Including Thor and I, four. A Valkyrie, who refuses to tell us her name, so we just call her Val. Banner came—you probably know him as—"

A smile broke out on Clary's face. "Bruce Banner's alive?"

"I think he's dead," I said, glancing down. "He was on watch. If the raiders got to us, then they would've had to have killed him before he could warn us or turn into the Hulk. The Valkyrie, she was pinned down when they opened fire. Thor and I, we tried to get out, but they separated us. He went back for Val."

"And you?" Clary asked.

"Thor told me to run," I said. "I didn't stop running, not for anything. I didn't have supplies. I couldn't even find any. It's been five days since we were separated. I didn't sleep, didn't eat. I kept moving, searching for Thor and Val, fighting my way through the dead."

"That explains the blood, but not that wound."

"I was hit when the marauders attacked us. Didn't really get time to fix it, being on the move like that. I remember finding a camp that was abandoned, and there's nothing after that. Just the here and now."

'I'm, uh, I'm sorry about your people," Clary offered, sitting on the edge of my bed instead of her chair. "I know what it's like to lose, and what it's like to be betrayed."

"Who betrayed you?" I questioned.

"A couple people. Some, it was my trust. Others, they tried to kill me or people important to me."

"Clary," a voice said from the doorway. Both Clary and I turned, and when we saw the blood on him, Clary blurted, "Oh, shit."

"It's not mine," he said, gesturing to the blood.

"Morgan, what happened?" Clary demanded, on her feet. "Are you alright?"

"Have you seen Richard?" Morgan inquired.

"No, why? What happened?"

Morgan paused for a moment before he said, "Benjamin's dead. The Saviors."

With that, he left. Clary clasped her hands over her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut as she collapsed into her chair. "Whoa, hey," I said, leaning forward and extending a hand towards her. "Are you okay? Clary? Clarissa!"

"I was supposed to be on that run," Clary told me. "I'm their sniper. I stay in the trees, fire if anything goes down. I have to stay hidden, what with the Saviors hunting Daryl and me. That's why we're here. Ezekiel offered us a place to hide."

"Yeah, about that," a man said as he appeared in the doorway.

"Jerry?" Clary questioned as she turned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Your brother left yesterday. I thought you knew."

"What do you mean, 'left'?"

"He left the Kingdom. He didn't tell anyone where he was going. We don't know where he is."

Clary thought for a moment, then said, "I do."


	9. 8: Where You Go, I Go

_**Chapter 8: Where You Go, I Go**_

_**~Clary~**_

I didn't have much. Running from the Saviors, we had to travel light. I had my weapons and the Falcon wings that Glenn wore, and that was about all I had with me. I gave a start when I heard a voice behind me, as I never heard any footsteps. They knew how to sneak around. "So," Loki said, and I relaxed a bit when I realized it was him, "you're leaving, too."

"I gotta find my brother. Then, I'll help you find yours," I promised.

"Why don't you stay?" Loki questioned, stepping further inside my room. "The Saviors are searching for you. This is the one place you won't be found."

"I need to know Daryl's safe, and I need to have Bucky with me. Without him around, I make a lot of very bad decisions."

"As evident by choosing to leave the Kingdom," Loki retorted.

"As evident by the programming that is still stuck in my head," I returned, turning to face Loki. "The Executioner is still up here. No one can control her except for the Winter Soldier. She's already taken over a couple times, and I'm terrified that next time, he won't be around to stop her. He knows how to deal with it, and he knows how to _put me down_ if he can't."

"Clarissa, come here," Loki commanded, though his voice was soft as if my words had somehow gotten to him. I stepped over to him, and Loki raised his hands, then paused, hovering them over my head. "Now, this will hurt, so tell me if you don't want me to do it. But, I can… destroy, per se, the Executioner in your mind."

"You can reverse the programming?" I asked. Loki nodded once. I grabbed his wrists, pressing his hands against my head. "Do it."

"This will hurt," Loki warned.

"You'd be surprised what I've endured," I said. Loki closed his eyes, and I felt a white hot pain shoot through my head. I let out a cry, and Loki immediately stopped, the pain ceasing. I managed, "Keep going. Get it out!"

The pain resumed, but a minute later, it subsided. I fell against Loki, and he caught me, holding my head against his chest. "Thank you," I whispered.

"I'm sorry for hurting you," Loki replied.

"It had to be done," I said, pulling away from him as I felt strong enough to stand on my own. "All the programming, it's gone?"

"There is no more Executioner," Loki confirmed. I mouthed my thanks, stepping back to get my weapons. "You're still going?"

I paused after I strapped my holster to my thigh, looking up at Loki. I offered, "You could come with me, Loki."

"I'm indebted to you," Loki replied. "You saved my life. Until I can return the favor, where you go, I go."

"Loki, you've more than made up what you owed," I tried to tell him as I put my wings on my back and my gun in its holster. "You aren't in my debt. You don't have to follow me like that, you know."

"I know. But I am." I paused as I started past him, reaching up and brushing his hair aside to allow me to check on the bullet wound. "You and I, we're a packaged deal now."

I dropped my hand. "That we are, sweet prince."

"We better get moving. Lead the way, dear Clarissa, to wherever it is we're going."

* * *

As we neared the Hilltop, Loki and I took to the woods, not wanting to approach in the open in case the Saviors were there. It turned out that had been our best option, as when we stopped at the edge of the woods, I could see those familiar trucks at the gate. "Shit," I said.

"Is that them?" Loki questioned, kneeling beside me. "The Saviors?"

I nodded. I looked around the woods near us, making sure there were no Saviors lurking nearby that would spot us. Around the other side of the Hilltop, I saw Sasha disappearing into the woods after taking one last glance back at Hilltop. "What the hell?"

"What is it?" Loki questioned.

"I just saw Sasha leaving. She wouldn't leave Maggie, so I don't know what's going on."

"Maybe someone will know inside. I think they're getting ready to leave."

We watched as two Saviors checked the back of each truck for any stowaways, and I let out a soft chuckle—Carl taught them a thing or two. It wasn't long before the Saviors had gone, and I said, "Alright, c'mon."

Loki followed me as we exited the woods, making our way to the gate. We round the corner of the wall, and I could see Kal up above on gate duty. I called, "Kal! Hey, you remember me?"

"Oh, Jesus," Kal said.

"No, but if you'd let us in so I can see him, that'd be lovely."

Kal opened the gate for us, staring after Loki as he followed me inside the Hilltop. We made our way up towards Barrington, and I saw Maggie climbing out of the cellar doors as Enid held them open for her. I changed my course as I saw who followed her out.

"Daryl Joseph Dixon!" I shouted upon seeing him exiting the cellar behind Maggie.

"Holy shit, you're terrifying," Daryl blurted. "I'm _never_ pissing you off again."

"So don't leave the Kingdom without me again! The hell were you thinking?! The Saviors were just here!"

Daryl retorted, "Yeah, but you're here, too, dumbass." He took my arm, questioning, "Can I talk to you? In private?"

"Lead the way," I replied. I followed my brother around the back of one of the FEMA trailers. "This… this is about Loki, isn't it?"

"How can you be so sure he's on our side?" Daryl demanded. "I mean, he—"

"Daryl, I know what he did," I interrupted. "Believe me, I know. But he's changed. He is on our side, I swear."

"And if he's not?"

"And if he's not, then I will hand myself over to the Saviors with a fucking bow on my head."

Daryl sighed, "Clary…"

"Loki is looking for his brother. That's _all_ he's doing."

"I just… I just can't believe that."

"Daryl, do you trust me?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course."

"Then trust _him_. Because I do."

Daryl clearly wasn't happy about it, but he agreed. "Fine. Now, where the hell is Thor?"

* * *

_**~Thor~**_

"'Mercy for the lost,'" I read, looking up at a sign outside the gate of the first walled community we've come across. "'Vengeance for the plunderers.'"

"And help for the wounded, I hope," Val added, glancing down at her wound from the raiders that killed Banner and separated us from Loki. The woman on watch looked down at us as we approached the gate, Val calling, "We need help."

She turned to look down at someone inside the gate, who must've nodded because she told us, "Hand over your weapons when you enter. You can have them back once we determine if you're allowed to stay."

The gate rolled open, and Val and I looked around as we entered. Large houses lined the streets, a lake with a grassy area nearby. I glanced behind me as the gate closed, immediately recognizing the man closing it. "Val, look!" I exclaimed. "I know him! He's a friend from work!"

"Fantastic," Val said with a groan. "If you could get me to the infirmary first, that'd be great."

"Holy shit, Thor, what happened to you?" Clint questioned, jogging over to meet us.

"Eh, my sister," I replied with a shrug. "This is my friend, Val. She helped us kill Hela."

"Okay," Clint said slowly. To the woman on watch, he called, "Michonne, you good up there a bit longer if I take them to the infirmary?"

Michonne gave Clint a thumbs up, and as we followed Clint to the infirmary, he looked over at Val and me again. "So… your sister did this?"

"No, some raiders shot me," Val answered.

"But the eyepatch?"

I answered, "You all thought Loki was bad? He's got nothing on our sister. Hela took my eye, and the only way to defeat her was to bring Ragnarok, which destroyed Asgard. It's been a _long_ year."

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

We eventually found Jesus on the other side of Barrington. He was teaching a handful of civilians how to properly use a knife, how to throw it and promising that they'd get to actually practicing throwing soon. "Jesus!" I called.

"Give me a couple minutes!" he replied, not even turning to look.

I shared a look with Loki, both of us knowing that whatever caused Sasha to leave was far more important than lessons. I drew one of my knives, throwing it and embedding it into a nearby tree. Before the Hilltoppers could react, a second blade struck the tree. Everyone turned to look at Loki and me, and I crossed my arms as I looked to Jesus, telling him, "We need to talk. Now."

Jesus looked between Loki and me before telling his students that he'd be back. He followed me away from them so we could speak in private, and Loki retrieved our weapons from the tree. Jesus stated, "That's… that's Loki."

"Yes, it is," I said. "I found him in the woods."

"He's a _god._"

"And your name is Jesus. You do realize the irony of your amazement, right?" Loki passed my knife back to me, joining us. "Thanks, Lok."

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?"

"We saw Sasha leaving."

"Yeah, she and Rosita, they took off."

"Where?" Loki questioned. "They looked like they were on a mission."

"They are. They're going to kill Negan."

Loki looked down at me. "We going?"

"If you are, you can probably still catch them."

"Get your shit," I told Loki. "We're going with 'em."

* * *

_**~Sasha~**_

I opened the passenger side door to the car that Rosita was attempting to hotwire, leaning down to speak with her. "If this one starts, I'll siphon some gas," I told her. "I just gotta find—"

"There's an empty water bottle on the floorboard," Rosita said, not even looking up.

"Nice," I complimented, grabbing the water bottle.

Rosita sighed. "I thought this was the one, but—" She cut herself off, and I glanced down, realizing that she was staring at the necklace that used to be Abraham's. "Like it? I made it. Car's dead." Rosita sighed, climbing out of the car. I followed her after tucking the necklace in my shirt. "Nothing here. Let's keep going."

"Y'all really should listen when Steve talks about Nazi Germany," came Clary's voice, and we both turned at it. "He learned how to _properly_ steal a car."

"I think the battery's dead," Rosita said, closing the door and leaning against the car.

I asked, "Who's your friend?"

Clary wrapped her arm around the man with her, gesturing between him and Rosita and I. "Girls, this is the Prince of Asgard, the son of Odin, rightful King of Jotunheim, and the God of Mischief, Loki. Lok, these two are with me. They're from Alexandria. That's Sasha and that's Rosita."

"Pleasure, ladies," Loki greeted.

Now I knew that Clary had some interesting choices of friends. She hung out with a hundred-year-old assassin responsible for the Kennedy assassination, after all. But teaming up with Loki was something else. I glanced to Rosita, quietly questioning, "Should we trust him?"

"Well, we know what he's capable of," Rosita whispered back.

"That's why I'm not too keen on trusting him."

"Really? It's why I trust him. Well, not exactly trust him, but want him on our side."

I sighed, then gestured for them to follow with a nod of my head. "Let's keep moving."

* * *

_**~Loki~**_

We kept moving, walking down streets with cars covered in dust. We checked the ones that weren't wrecked, getting nowhere. We walked behind a building to a small camp that had been abandoned in a hurry. We approached one that looked like someone had been living out of it, so I hoped that it still ran. Rosita checked it for walkers, and Sasha questioned, "Where'd you learn to disarm bombs?"

Rosita ignored her, throwing her bag down at Sasha's feet and climbing in the car. Sasha continued, "Were you in the Army?"

"Someone I knew," Rosita answered.

"Oh," Clary whispered.

"Not him," Rosita quickly assured her. She wasn't nearly as harsh towards Clary as she had been towards Sasha, and it made me wonder what their story was. Rosita must've caught my look of confusion, explaining, "Sasha and I had a thing with the same guy. Separate times, of course."

"And I killed him," Clary whispered.

"The Executioner killed him."

"It was still me."

"So it wasn't from Abraham?" Sasha questioned.

Rosita sighed, colder once again as she looked at Sasha. "Look, I'm not here to play 'Get to Know You,' so either we talk about the mission or we don't."

"Okay, fine. Jesus said there's some buildings, two, three, four stories, just outside the Sanctuary just to the east of it."

"The Sanctuary?" I questioned.

"Their headquarters," Clary explained. "Negan's home. At least one of the buildings will have a line of sight to the rear courtyard, past the fence with the walkers on it."

"So we hole up," Sasha decided. "We wait, we take a shot from there. If we have to get closer, there are some weak spots in the perimeter we might still be able to take advantage of. But if we can, I say we stay outside, do it clean. Maybe we get out of there alive"

Rosita said nothing, climbing out of the car and picking up her bag. She started walking again without even acknowledging Sasha's plan. I leaned down to whisper in Clary's ear, "They do realize we're on the same side, right?"

Clary simply smirked, quickly exhaling to convey her amusement without alerting the two women that she was laughing at them. Sasha followed Rosita, questioning, "You have a problem with that?"

"I want to make sure we get him," Rosita snapped. "That means we go in. If we shoot from a distance and miss, we don't get another chance."

"I won't miss."

"Even if you shoot and graze him, he doesn't die."

"_I won't miss. _If we go in and we get caught—"

"I won't get caught."

"What the hell's wrong with you? They take us, we don't get another try because _they'll kill us_. If we're out here, we're alive. We get another go."

"We have someone that knows the layout of the Sanctuary, inside and out," Rosita said, gesturing towards Clary. "We won't get caught, and we won't need another go." Two walkers approached, and the two women took them out simultaneously. "Nothing is wrong with me, Sasha. I'm gonna make sure he's dead. Look, if this is too much for you, you want to bail, now's your chance."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Well, I'm done talking about it."

"Good. Maybe you'll _think_ about it. Maybe you'll change your mind about what it takes to get what you want."

I noticed Clary wasn't really paying much attention, lost in her thoughts as she lagged behind us. I dropped back to walk with her, and Sasha, still wary of me, turned to face us, walking backward. She questioned, "Everything okay?"

"I don't know," I answered. "We'll catch up. Keep going."

Sasha took another worried look at Clary before walking up to the latest car Rosita was attempting to start. I turned to Clary, ordering, "Talk. What's going on?"

"I can't go back," Clary whispered. Her voice was shaking, and I saw her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she met my gaze. "I don't wanna get caught, Loki. I can't go back with them."

"Hey, hey," I said, resting my hand on her cheek. "It's okay. You're not going back in there."

Clary closed her eyes as she let her head droop forward, and I moved my hand from her cheek to wrap around her shoulders. I put the other in her hair, remembering how Frigga would do the same when I was upset as I child, gently combing my fingers through it. Into my chest, Clary murmured, "I can't do this. We have to go back."

"Alright," I agreed. "Where you go, I go. We'll head back." I nudged Clary towards the car. "Sasha's worried. I'll tell her we're heading back and then we're gone, alright?"

I left Clary where she was, Sasha waiting for me anxiously by the car. Rosita looked up from inside as I reached them, telling them, "Clary can't keep going. I can't let her risk being taken by them again. I wish you two good fortune and that you stop fighting with each other, and I hope that you remember we're on the same side of this war. I'm taking Clary back, and I hope to see you both safe when it's done."

* * *

_**~Thor~**_

After taking us to the infirmary, Barton returned to the gate to change shifts with Michonne. I remained with Val as they fixed her up. Steve entered a few minutes later, alongside a man with dark curls and blue eyes. "Michonne said you were here," Steve said, embracing me. "She didn't say that you don't look like you."

"Ah, well, times change," I replied.

"Yeah, I dig the new haircut."

"Thanks. I notice you've copied my beard." Steve chuckled as I offered my hand to the man next to him. "Thor Odinson."

"Rick Grimes," he replied, shaking my hand. "I'm in charge here. Let's speak outside."

"Really?" I whispered to Steve as I followed Rick outside, knowing that Val will be fine. "You're not in charge? You ran the Avengers."

"The Avengers, not an entire community," Steve replied as we gathered on the porch of the infirmary. "What the hell happened to you?"

As I started catching them up, two others arrived, a woman and a teenager who shared a resemblance to Rick. I was shocked to find that he was missing an eye as well—perhaps he had a sister that took his, too? Steve caught me staring at him, and leaned over to whisper, "Carl was shot. Don't stare. He's self-conscious about it."

I looked away, picking back up with my story but Rick held up a hand to tell me to wait. "Tara, what is it?" he asked the woman that was with Carl.

"We need to talk," she replied. "I, uh, I haven't been completely honest. There's…" Tara reached down, fiddling with the seashell bracelet on her wrist. "There's a place."

"Come on," Rick said. "We'll talk in private. Thor, it was nice to meet you. We'll finish talking later."

Rick walked off with Tara while Carl joined us on the porch. "Hi," he said, a little nervous. "I'm Carl. You're my favorite Avenger."

"Carl!" Steve gasped, scandalized. "I thought _I_ was your favorite Avenger!"

"You were. But Thor's like me." I smiled down at the teenager, who seemed to gain his confidence now. "Um, can I try to lift your hammer?"

My once reassuring smile turned sad as I told him, "Mjolnir was destroyed, unfortunately, by my sister."

"Oh," Carl said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Steve chuckled softly, ruffling Carl's hair. "I'll teach you to throw my shield instead. How's that?" Carl grinned and nodded. "And, one day, after the war's over, maybe it'll be yours."

"What are you talking about?" Carl questioned, his eye widening.

I smiled at Steve as he glanced towards me before he handed his shield to Carl. "I think I'll pass the mantle onto you. The next Captain America, Carl Grimes."

"Well, I've already got the Hydra assassin girlfriend. Might as well take the shield."

* * *

_**~Loki~**_

Clary had suggested that we discuss our next move for finding Thor, so we took over Jesus's trailer. She started to shut down once we returned, though. She was too deep in her mind, still thinking about the Sanctuary and the possibility of being taken by the Saviors again.

"Sit," I told her, gesturing to the couch. "You're shutting down. I'm not letting that happen. Talk to me."

"Loki, I'm just… I'm terrified of going back there," she whispered, clutching my hands.

"You won't," I promised her. "You'll never be trapped there again, I swear to you. I won't let them take you again."

The door swung open, Jesus and Daryl entering. Jesus was fuming over something other than Daryl's barrage of questions about the four of us that left. Daryl cut himself off mid-sentence as he saw Clary and I. "You're here," he said. "Where the hell have you been?"

"We went after the girls," I explained. "Clary couldn't do it. She couldn't go back there, and I didn't have it in me to make her keep going. So we came back."

"Loki, I need to have a talk with you, alone."

I stood, dropping Clary's hands as I followed Daryl to the other side of the trailer. I wasn't keen on leaving her at the moment, knowing she was still thinking about the Sanctuary and Negan. We kept our voices low so our conversation would be private as I questioned, "What'd you need to speak to me about?"

"I'm gonna be completely honest," Daryl said. "I don't even know if I can trust you. For all I know, you haven't changed a bit and you're just manipulating her into helping you. I don't know you, so I don't trust you as far as my sister's concerned."

I stole a glance at Clary, who Jesus was kneeling in front of, talking softly about how she'll be safe in Hilltop. She was still shaken from nearly going back to the Sanctuary. I felt my heart pain, knowing what it was like to have the fear of going back to a place where I could be killed at any second. I remembered my time with Thanos all too well, and if Negan was anything like the Mad Titan, it angered me beyond what was measurable that Clary went through that.

I looked back to Daryl, telling him, "Trust my rage."

* * *

_**~Rosita~**_

Sasha took the shot, taking out the single walker and guard with one bullet. Eugene ducked down as soon as he realizes what happened, and I ran to meet him at the fence. "Get up," I told him. "You're getting out." I started to make a hole in the fence, but Eugene still hadn't moved. "Eugene, get up! We're breaking you out. Eugene!"

"No," he whispered. "I'm not going with you."

"What?"

"I didn't ask you to come, so go! People got to be en route."

With that, Eugene finally got up. But instead of going with us, he walked back inside.

"That weak, lying sack of shit," I hissed. I finished opening the fence, taking off my bag and digging for my gun. "This is it. I'm going in."

"Hold on," Sasha said, trying to move the fence so we could get in. "It's gonna take a second. More could be coming back. Keep an eye out." I stood, watching for anyone as she took care of the fence. "Just another second."

I turned as I heard a lock, finding Sasha putting a bike lock on the fence so I couldn't get in. "What the hell are you doing?" I questioned.

"Go," Sasha whispered, and I could see tears in her eyes. "It's not your time. There's got to be a point to it, right? They need you."

Sasha smiled as she backed away from the fence, both of us knowing that she was going to her death. But she didn't stop smiling as long as I could see her, and she was probably still grinning as she ran inside. I tried to open the fence as I heard gunfire, but it was no use. Two men exited the building, and I grabbed my bag and ran before they could see me.

I didn't stop running, not until I knew they weren't looking for me. I found myself crying, never having been close to Sasha but this was what I wanted to do. I wanted to be the one, even though I promised the shot to Sasha. I wanted it to be me.

"Dammit," I whispered, trying to catch my breath. "Dammit!"

I straightened as I got the feeling someone was watching me, turning to look. There was something in the distance. It could've been anyone, dead or alive.

Then, I saw the crossbow.


	10. 9: Angels

_**Chapter 9: Angels**_

_**~Clary~**_

"So this is where we are," I said, putting dots on the map Loki and I looked at to mark the locations I said. "This is Alexandria and the Kingdom, and that's where I found you."

Loki took the pen, marking places closer to Washington, D.C. "That's where we landed," he said. "This was our last camp before the coup. I think the last place we were was somewhere in here."

"So Thor and Val could be anywhere, basically," I said with a soft sigh. "Alright. We'll leave around midday to give us time to pack some supplies for a week. We'll find more out there. We'll start where you guys were last, work our way back in the direction of the Kingdom. We don't find him on that route, we'll come back here and start over again."

Loki nodded along, then reached across the picnic table we sat at to take my hand. "Thank you for doing this," he said.

"I made you a promise, Loki," I told him. "I gave you my word. Of course I'm gonna keep it."

"Just be careful while you two are out there," Daryl requested. "I can't lose you again, Clary."

Loki pulled his hand away, not looking at my brother or I. I hissed, "Daryl, talk, now."

Daryl followed me away from the table, leaving Loki there. My brother asked, "What?"

"Cool it with the sibling thing, okay?" I said. "I told Loki I'd help him find his brother, but instead of doing that, I dragged him here after mine. Look, Daryl, I'm not blaming you. I'm not. But you are making it so much harder on him."

Daryl looked towards Loki, who was staring at the map as if he were waiting for it to reveal Thor's whereabouts. Daryl looked back down at me. "How?"

"Thor is _missing_. They were attacked and separated. Every second they're apart, Loki's blaming himself because Thor told him to run. Loki ran because if he stayed, he'd be dead. But now, we don't know if Thor's even alive. If something happened to him because we did what I wanted to instead of what I promised Loki; if he lost Thor, I'd feel like that's on me."

The gate to Hilltop suddenly opened, and I spun, pushing Daryl behind me as I got ready for a fight to start. "He didn't announce them," Daryl rushed. "Kal _always_ tells us when the Saviors are coming."

"Stay behind me," I ordered. "And if there's a fight, you stay back."

"You got it," Daryl acknowledged. I took a fighting stance, one hand on my gun, as the gate opened. Instead of the enemy, our own people walked through the gates, including one that I didn't recognize. I stared at him for a long moment before I realized that this short-haired blonde with an eyepatch was Thor.

"You look like hell, Thunderstruck," I called.

Heads turned towards me at the sound of my voice, Bucky smiling softly and shaking his head. He should've known I wouldn't stay in the Kingdom. Pietro disappeared in a blur, barely skidding to a halt before he wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the ground. Pietro spun me around, rambling, "You're here! The Saviors said you escaped, but I didn't think you'd be _here!"_

"I'm here," I told him as he pulled back to look at me.

Pietro leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. I shook my head at him as he pulled back, remembering how he did the same when I returned from being Hydra's captive. He gave me a small smile, telling me, "I'm European."

"I saw your note," I told him, resting my flesh hand against his cheek. Pietro closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. "I saw it, but not until I was back at the Sanctuary. I would've taken it, too, if it weren't for Daryl."

"I could've gotten him out, too," Pietro whispered, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against mine.

"I had the chance, and I should've taken it," I said. "But you know what? We're still here. We're all here, together."

I pulled away from Pietro, turning around as I searched for Loki. He was with me just a few moments ago, and his brother was finally here. I looked over at Thor, who wore a smile that I could easily tell was fake and forced. He kept his eye cast downward, staring at his hands. Tara rested her hand on his arm, asking, "Thor, is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Thor replied. "I'm okay."

He wasn't. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out. Thor was pretending he's fine when he's not.

That is until a small rock smacked Thor in the back of the head.

He turned on his heel, hands curling into fists; and I couldn't help but smirk when I saw Loki standing there, smiling like the smug little shit he is. Everyone else was dead silent, the Avengers taking defensive stances. Rick drew his gun, keeping it at his side, while Pietro darted forward to take his place in the line of defense beside Stark. Natasha pushed around Carl, putting him behind her in the same motion, as she drew her gun, aiming it directly at Loki.

No one dared to breathe, waiting anxiously for who would make the first move. It was completely silent, so quiet I could hear my own heart beating.

The silence was broken as Thor roared, "_LOKI!"_

He charged at his brother, arms spread to tackle him in a hug. Thor simply went through Loki, face planting into the ground. I stifled a laugh when I realized that it was an illusion, turning when I felt a hand on my back. Loki whispered to me, "Thank you."

"It wasn't me," I replied, watching Thor as he stood up, looking around. Loki called, "You still fall for that, brother? Some things _truly_ never change."

The Avengers all spun around at Loki's voice, Natasha hissing, "Get away from her."

"Gimme three steps, Rock of Ages," Stark ordered.

"Loki," Thor said, taking a few steps towards us. "You're here." Thor suddenly ran forward, crushing Loki in a hug. "I thought you were dead!"

Thor was sobbing so hard that he could hardly make it through that sentence. Rick started, "Thor—"

"Rick," I interrupted. "Put 'em away. All of you. Trust me on this."

Loki questioned, "Thor, dear gods, what do these Midgardians _think _of you? Must you always be so dramatic, brother?" The God of Mischief sighed before giving in and hugging Thor back. "I suppose… it's good to see you, too, brother."

Thor managed to stop sobbing long enough to joke, "What about _your_ reputation?"

Loki simply slapped Thor upside the head, too tired and too relieved to fight it. Thor chuckled, squeezing Loki once more before pulling back. "Look at you," he said. "You're alive. How the hell did you get here?"

Loki stepped back, resting his hand on my shoulder. "Thor, this is Clary Dixon. She's the reason I'm still alive. She's the reason I'm here now."

Thor glanced between Loki and me before turning to me, pulling me into a hug and cradling my head in his hand. He held me against his chest (which, as it should be noted, was very muscular). "Thank you," Thor whispered. "Thank you."

"I just did what anyone would do," I replied, looking up at Thor as I took a step back.

"Thor, what about Val?" Loki suddenly questioned. "Where is she?"

"In Alexandria," Thor answered. "She was shot when we tried to run. We got her help in Alexandria."

"She was shot?" Loki questioned, eyebrows creasing in worry. "And you?"

"We got out," Thor said. "That's what matters."

"Loki, I need to talk to you," I said.

"Of course," Loki said with a nod. "We'll be back, Thor."

I took Loki's hand, gesturing for Pietro to join us as I led him away from Thor. "Bucky—c'mere."

Pietro, Loki, and Bucky stood together, all facing me. I told them, "Pietro, you said before that you wanted to be on my team. Bucky, there's nothing that's gonna separate us. Loki, you said, 'where you go, I go.' All of that, does that still apply?"

They all nodded.

"Good. I want the four of us on a team together. Our own team. We're a bunch of redeemed bad guys who have all been thought dead at one point."

"Hell, that's a good enough reason on its own to make a team," Bucky joked.

"You said it," Pietro laughed, while Loki nodded in agreement.

"After all," I said, "you have Pietro, who worked with Hydra. Me and Bucky, Hydra's super soldiers. And Loki—well, he's Loki."

"Hey!" Loki protested.

"I'm joking, I'm joking," I quickly said.

"Your super-secret bad boy band have a name?" Stark jokingly asked.

Without a moment of hesitation, I deadpanned, "Clary's Angels."

Loki said, "Better than the Revengers."

"I panicked, okay?!" Thor exclaimed. "I panicked!"

"Please don't let Thor name our coalition," I requested.

"So it's official?" Bucky questioned, looking between Rick and me.

I shared a look with Rick, who nodded once. I announced, "We're going to war."

* * *

_**~Tara~**_

To go to war, we needed guns. I knew a place that had a lot of guns, and I knew that once some of the women of Oceanside found out what we were doing, they'd join us. I just had to get through to Natania first.

I took a step farther back into the corner as the door opened, raising my gun when Natania stepped through, closing the door behind her. "Hi," I said, announcing myself. "Stay quiet and put your hands on your head."

"We should've just killed you in the village," Natania said, not moving as I made my way towards her.

I checked her for weapons, saying, "You're gonna be glad you didn't."

"You're not alone, are you?"

I pulled out a chair for her. "Sit."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to sit," I returned. The door opened, and I took a step back, but Cyndie didn't see me at first. "Hey, Cyndie."

She paused, then turned around. "You promised."

"Yeah, I did, I know. Put your hands on your head." She did as I said, and I checked her for weapons. I stood up, finding none. "I didn't have a choice."

"Why are you here?" she questioned.

"I said I didn't have a choice," I repeated as Cyndie joined her grandmother by her chair. "But you do, both of you do. My friends are out there right now, and they're gonna take this place, hopefully without firing a shot."

"What? You're gonna 'take this place'?" Cyndie questioned. "What are you talking about?"

"We need your guns," I told them. "We're gonna fight the Saviors. You should join us."

"No," Natania immediately objected.

"The Saviors killed your fathers, your brothers, husbands, and sons. And you ran from them. I thought we got rid of them. Beatrice said there was more out there and she was right. They came back. They killed my friends. They killed my girlfriend. They took us over. They took everything from us. We do whatever the Saviors tell us to do, and they think we're still doing that, but we're not. We're gonna fight them. And we have other communities beside us, and with Oceanside, we would have an army."

"So, that's it?" Cyndie asked. "'Thanks for the guns, you should join us'?"

"If we fight them together, we can beat them," I told her. "We have to try."

"They'll win, Tara," Natania said. "I've seen it. So have you."

"Just talk to the leaders of my group, Rick and Steve. Just talk, and we don't have to take over this place. We don't want to. I can give them the signal to stop this, but you have to tell me right now." I looked down at my watch, checking how much time was left before the dynamite blew. "Listen! We're not just hiding in the woods. We're doing something. We're not giving up. I didn't want to break my promise, Cyndie, okay? But the world can belong to good people, to fair people, if we're all just brave enough to try!"

"We are not good, and we are not brave. Neither you nor me." Natania gestured to her granddaughter. "She is. That's why we're in this mess. Look, Tara, if you take our guns, you might as well be killing us all. That's what you'll be doing."

"We should talk to them," Cyndie tried.

"No."

"We can try to stop this."

"No, Cyndie."

"It doesn't matter," I said, looking down at my watch. "You can't. It's too late."

Barely a second later, the first explosion sounded.

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

The first explosion sounded, the flame billowing above the tree line. _Alright, showtime._ To everyone waiting in the woods for the women to flee, I called, "They'll be running this way soon. Be ready."

The women and children run out of Oceanside, the bombs herding them along to those of us waiting. When they were close enough, we rushed out of the woods, weapons raised.

"Nobody move!" I commanded, keeping my gun raised on the Oceanside as my angels spread out around me. I saw the fear in their eyes as they recognized Bucky and Loki. I lowered my gun, stepping forward. "Nobody needs to get hurt. We're here for one thing, and it is _not_ your lives."

"We don't want anyone to get hurt," Carl added, the Alexandrians parting to allow him to step forward.

"We want to do this the easy way," I said. "Make it easy, for all of us."

I turned as I heard a pistol cocking, but Pietro beat me to it. In a second, he had reached the woman who snuck out of the woods, not having followed the majority, and drew her weapon on me. He aimed his gun at her, barking, "Drop it!"

"We don't want to hurt any of you," Loki said, holstering his gun. "We don't want any of us to get hurt, either." He looked towards the woman, who had yet to lower her gun. "Drop your weapon. All of you, if you're carrying a weapon; drop it and kneel."

"We're not here for your lives," I repeated. "We're not here for your people, your homes, or your food."

"Then what _are_ you here for?" a girl no older than twelve questioned.

"Rachel," one of the women hissed.

"We want your help," Loki answered. "If you won't grant us that, we want your guns."

"It's not up to us," one woman said.

"We know," I told them. "We just needed you all in one place."

Daryl and Jesus arrived, two other women in tow. Rick wasn't far behind them, already speaking as he reached the women and children. "Now, we made a lot of noise. We want to wrap this up quick so that you can send people to redirect anything coming this way. Tara said your forests are relatively clear, so we won't take any chances. No one needs to get hurt. This is just about what you have, what we need."

"Nobody's taking anything!" a woman called, and I saw their leader, Natania, approaching with a gun to Tara's head. "You need to let everyone go and leave right now. Just walk away, or this one dies."

"We'll leave you alone," Stark assured her. "But we're takin' your weapons with us."

"That ain't changin'," I said. "No matter what happens. Whether you kill Tara or we kill you, whether no one dies or everyone dies, we're walkin' out of here with your guns. And I hope to hell we don't have to kill anyone, 'cause I don't want to. I've already promised your people that no one has to die. Don't make me break that promise over a stupid decision. I know, Natania, that you don't want me to kill any of your people, either. So you're gonna let Tara go, we're takin' your guns, and we're fightin' the Saviors."

"Put the gun down," Rick said, "and let's talk about what we can change."

"No," Natania said with a shake of her head. "Leave, right now."

Tara looked up at Michonne from her spot in the trees, calling, "Michonne! Don't!"

"We just wanna be left alone."

"Yeah, we'll leave you alone," Stark repeated. "Just let go of her, now."

"Or we'll kill you," Rick added. "And none of us wants that."

"They want us to fight the Saviors," the girl accompanying Natania told her people.

"We tried that, we lost too much," Natania said. "We're not gonna lose anymore. Not our guns, not our safety, not after everything we've done to get here."

"We're gonna win," Tara promised Oceanside. "With your guns, with or without your help."

"Natania, put the gun down," Bucky told her.

"You kill me, and you die," Tara said. "Any my people take the guns and _nothing_ _changes_."

One of the women that Daryl and Jesus captured spoke up. "Maybe we should try."

That little glimmer of hope, that little spark of rebellion against the Saviors was all that I was looking for. Even the tiniest spark could ignite a gargantuan flame that burned the Saviors and all they stood for to the ground. Anything that inspired folks to join our cause was welcomed with open arms, and the murmurs of agreement amongst the women were the oxygen that fueled the flame.

I looked down at the woman that spoke. "You—"

"Beatrice," she interrupted.

"Beatrice, will you speak for these people? The people that want to fight?"

"She's not speaking for anyone!" Natania barked. "I lead these people."

The girl next to Natania said, "Grandma, stop. It's over. Just talk to them."

"Cyndie—" Natania started.

"Alright, here's how this is gonna happen," Stark interrupted. "Cyndie, you're taking Grannie's gun. Then, you're going to be the one to talk to Rick, and you're gonna decide what's best for your group."

"Will your people fight," I questioned, "or stand by?"

"Rick!" Michonne shouted. "Walkers!"

Cyndie made her move then, hitting her grandmother and taking her gun. Bucky barked, "Everybody, up! In a circle!

"Get the children behind us, in the center!" Thor added.

"I'll take point," I volunteered. "I need someone on my six!"

"You've got it," Natasha promised at the same time Loki told me, "I'll cover you."

Behind me, Beatrice barked, "First shift, join 'em on the line! Knives out! Dead only, dead only!"

Rick ordered, "Everyone, shots within ten feet of the line! That's it!"

The walkers arrived, a quick glance placing their headcount at thirty, or close to it. They were covered in barnacles, something I guessed was usual for walkers so close to the ocean. Stark remarked, "Oh, that is just absolutely _disgusting._"

"Really?" Nat retorted. "_This_ is what you're disgusted by?!"

When Bucky was satisfied that they were close enough, he barked, "Fire!"

Those with guns opened fire on the dead, but I quickly found that my count was wrong. More arrived after the first couple that we took down, and I lowered my gun, getting nowhere. "Let 'em get closer!" I shouted. "Save your ammo! Knives out!"

I kept my gun in one hand, my knife in the other. I took point, just as I volunteered to, marching to meet the dead head on. I drove my knife into one's temple, and it fell to the ground as I pulled my knife out. Dead hands brushed my arm, but a second later they were gone. Loki grunted, and I glanced over to find him pulling his knife out of a walker's head, having had my back just like he promised. I gave him a nod of thanks and quickly repaid the favor by firing over his shoulder at a walker approaching him from behind.

There were still the occasional shots for another few moments as we killed the horde that approached, until it went silent, seemingly all at once. As Loki and I walked back to join the rest of the group, we checked the walkers to make sure they were all dead. I straightened from sticking my knife in the head of a walker, watching Natania as she shook her head at her people. She winced and touched the spot where Cyndie hit her, then lowered her hand and turned on her heel.

Her people watched her go, no one making a move or a sound of protest as she said, "No. We're not fighting them with you. So take your damn guns and go."

Loki and I reached the others, Bucky and Pietro meeting us. "You alright, doll?" Bucky questioned, stepping closer to me and taking my hand. "Looked like you had a bit of a close call."

"Loki had my back," I replied. "I'm good. We all are, yes?"

I received nods, and Pietro asked, "So… what comes next?"

"Well, we've got guns, ammo. A good amount of soldiers—including three super soldiers, three Asgardians, and some Avengers. What comes next? War, and our victory. And now, we go to Alexandria to plan."


	11. 10: Demons Run

_**Chapter 10: Demons Run**_

_**~Clary~**_

Though the sun had since set when we returned to Alexandria, but I could still tell who opened the gate. "Rosita," I said, stepping past Clint to greet her. "You're here. You came back."

"Sasha went in," she told me, not saying much of anything else.

A woman was with Clint and Rosita, an unfamiliar face. She kept one hand over her side, protectively covering a wound. Her eyes went to one of my angels as they walked in, saying, "Loki."

"Valkyrie," Loki replied, sounding as relieved as she appeared to be.

"You're a Valkyrie?" Jesus questioned, excitement in his eyes. "One of Asgard's legendary warriors?!"

The warrior in question nodded. "My real name is Brunnhilde, but my friends call me Val."

"You never told anyone your name," Thor noted.

"Times change. We change, too."

"Speaking of changes," Rosita said, "there's something you need to see. Follow us."

Rosita turned on her heel, Val slowly but surely following behind. Rick, Daryl, Tara, Jesus, Michonne, Stark, Loki, and I fell in line behind them, accompanying them as they headed towards the brownstone with the cell in the basement. Steve stepped out from the shadows as we neared the cell, looking from Loki to Stark. Stark explained, "Clary found him and adopted him. They're inseparable now."

Steve turned his gaze to me. "I know Thor said he changed, but Clary, are you—"

"Steve, he's my emotional support bastard," I interrupted.

"Packaged deal," Loki added helpfully.

Rick sighed, shaking his head before telling Steve, "He's with us."

"Good," Steve said, shaking Loki's hand. "It's good you're here." Steve looked around at all of us. "It's good you're all here. We're gonna need all the help we can get. No matter where it comes from. Come on."

Steve unlocked the cell door, pushing it open and standing aside for us to enter. From within the shadows, a figure stood, taking a step forward until the moonlight streaming in from the window illuminated his features.

Dwight.

Daryl shoved Michonne and Tara aside as he did everything he could to reach Dwight to beat the shit out of him. Steve was faster, pushing Daryl back and subduing him for the moment.

"You son of a bitch," I growled.

"I could say the same to you," Dwight retorted. "Negan blamed me for you and your brother escaping."

"So why the hell are you here?" Stark demanded, angling his body just enough so that he was standing between me and Dwight. As he spoke, I glanced over to watch as he tapped a code into his watch, changing it into a repulsor glove. "Revenge, is it? Or are you spying for Negan?"

"He says he wants to help us," Rosita explained.

"Is that true?" Rick inquired. "You want to help?

"I do," Dwight confirmed.

Rick slowly nodded, stepping forward. "Okay," he said, then drew his Colt. "Get on your knees."

Dwight did just as Rick said. He got on his knees, but his eyes flicked from face to face, coming back to Daryl's the most.

"Look at me," Rick ordered, and Dwight lifted his eyes to Rick. "Why?"

"'Cause I want it stopped," Dwight answered. "I want Negan dead."

"So why don't you kill him?" Loki questioned.

"Can't just be me. They're all Negan."

"That girl you murdered," Tara started, and Rick stepped aside so she could lean down to look at Dwight, "she had a name. Her name was Denise Cloyd, and she was a doctor. And _she _helped people."

"I wasn't aiming for her," Dwight said, just like he did that day.

Daryl pushed around Steve before he can stop him, knife drawn as he shoved Dwight against the wall. "Do it," Tara said. "Do it."

"You wanna end it this way?" Dwight inquired. "You go ahead. I'm sorry. I am. I know you want to."

"He could just be here to see if you or Clary were here," Stark pointed out.

"We can't trust him," Michonne agreed.

"He owned me," Dwight said. "But not anymore. What I did, I was doing for someone else. You get that, don't you, Daryl? She just got away. So now I'm here. So are you because of her."

"Do it," Tara insisted.

"There's another choice," Dwight said, trying to talk his way out of Daryl killing him.

"Daryl, you knew her."

"Negan trusts me. We can work together. We can stop him. You knew me then, and you know me now. You know I'm not lying. I'm not."

"Daryl, do it," Tara repeated. "Do it!"

"Daryl, don't kill him," Loki said.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder at Loki, and even Steve and I gave Loki a look like he'd lost his mind. Daryl questioned, "What the _fuck_ did you just say?"

"Don't kill him," Loki repeated. "We can use him. He can be our way in." Loki slipped around Steve and Stark, stepping closer to Daryl and speaking like a devil on his shoulder. "I don't blame you for wanting him dead. Hell, I don't even know him and I want him dead. But get as much as you can use out of him _before_ you let your rage take revenge."

Something in Loki's words resonated with Daryl as they got him to lower his knife.

"They have Sasha, if she's even alive," Rosita told us.

"Why didn't you say something?" Jesus inquired. "He could be our only chance to get her back."

"Because I don't trust him." Rosita looked to my brother. "But I trust Daryl."

"I came to warn you, too," Dwight said. "Negan's coming soon. Tomorrow. Three trucks, probably."

"And how many is that?" Steve questioned. "What's the number?"

"Twenty Saviors, plus him," Dwight answered. "I can slow them down, bring some trees down in the road, buy a little time for you guys to get ready. If you can take them out, that's where we start. You kill them, I'll radio back to the Sanctuary."

"The Sanctuary?" Rick inquired.

"Where Negan lives," Dwight explained. "That's what they call it. I can radio back to them and say everything's okay. You drive the trucks back, and I can lead you right inside, and with the right plan, we can wipe out the rest. Check to see if your friend's still alive."

"We'll still have all the outposts to contend with," Steve said. "You know which communities the Saviors take from. You must know someone else that we can get on our side so we have enough to make it to the end."

"The workers," Dwight offered. "We get them on our side, build our numbers up. We go—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Stark said. "You are _not_ one of us."

"But I'm here to fight on your side. That means I fight where you fight. And I'm trying to tell you how to end Negan's reign! Go from outpost to outpost, one after the other, and end this. And it all starts tomorrow."

* * *

"Look, I don't trust him," I declared, looking around the table my angels had gathered at. "I think you're a damn fool if you do. But that doesn't mean that I don't believe him. I don't trust Dwight, but I believe he _does_ want to help us."

"I hope you're right, Clary," Pietro said. "'Cause if you're not, we're all dead or worse."

"I know that putting even the tiniest bit of faith in Dwight is putting all of us at risk. Negan could show up tomorrow with three times the people, take us or kill us, and destroy this place. But I have to believe that won't happen, and even if it does, we'll be ready. We'll win."

Loki questioned, "How do we know he's on our side? How do we know he's not here just to see if you or Daryl are here?"

"We don't."

Bucky placed a hand on my arm, softly questioning, "Can we talk?"

I nodded, and Bucky and I stepped away to speak in private. "What's up?"

"This battle tomorrow," Bucky started. He paused, took a deep breath, then looked down at me. "I don't want you to be here for it."

"Excuse me?!" I exclaimed.

"If we lose, Negan won't kill you. He'll take you again. I don't want you to go through that again, not after Hydra and not after the first time. I can't stand the thought of you being in danger like this."

"James, I'm a super soldier surrounded by Avengers. I know how to fight, how to kill. You don't need to worry."

"I can't _not_ worry. You and Steve are my best friends. You and I, we've been fighting side by side since Woodbury. But this is something different. It's bigger than the Governor."

"So you know I have to be there! This is my war as much as anyone else's. I want revenge on the motherfucker that made me kill our friend. I will be there, James Buchanan Barnes, for everything. Every battle, every kill, until I beat Negan's head in with Lucille _myself._"

* * *

_**~Loki~**_

The turkey call sounded; it was the noise we were both waiting and dreading. It signaled the coming of the Saviors, the preface of the battle. Another Scavenger returned it, signaling that Alexandria and its allies got the warning. We grabbed our guns, those on the watchposts kneeling behind the wall. They ducked their heads, hiding so they wouldn't be seen.

Val wanted terribly to be here to fight, but we forced her to stay behind at the infirmary, her injury still not fully healed. Clint and Wanda were hidden with Aaron and Eric, Bucky kneeling beside Carl.

Only Rick remained standing on the watchpost. Steve stood at the gate, shield on his arm. On the ground, a few feet back, I stood with the Dixons, a knife in one hand and a gun in the other. Clary was fully armed and prepared for war, wearing her Executioner uniform. Her gun was strapped to her thigh and knives were around her waist, complete with a red-handled machete hanging from her belt.

"Rosita," Rick said, turning his head to look down at her. "Get in position. I'll signal you."

"The wall will hold?" Steve questioned.

"It'll hold," Rosita assured him.

A voice boomed over a megaphone, but the look on Clary's face told me that it wasn't a voice she was expecting.

"All points are covered," a man said. "Every contingency is met. I come armed with two barrels of the truth. A test is upon you, and I'm giving out the cheat sheet."

"What the hell?" Clary asked. "Rose, tell me that ain't Eugene."

"It's Eugene," Rosita replied.

"Who's Eugene?" I asked.

"Used to be one of ours until Negan took him," Clary quietly informed me. "Guess he's a Savior now."

Brakes hissed as the Saviors' trucks came to a stop. Eugene said, "Hello. I come salved with the hope that it is my dropped knowledge that you heed. Options are zero to none. Compliance and fealty are your only escape. Bottom-lining it, you may thrive or you may die. I sincerely wish for the former, for everyone's sake. The jig is up and in full effect. Will you comply, Rick?"

Rick and Steve shared a look before Rick questioned, "Where's Negan?"

"I'm Negan."

"_Shit,_" Clary muttered under her breath. "Rose, he's one of them. You gotta blow it."

"We don't trade lives," Steve argued, looking over his shoulder to face Clary.

"We don't trade the lives of our people! And he ain't one of us no more!"

Steve paused, knowing that she was right. Rosita looked to the captain, awaiting the signal. He sighed before saying, "Do it."

Steve used his shield to cover himself, and Rick ducked down from where he stood on the watchpost. Rosita pressed the detonator, but nothing happened. We glanced around at each other, slightly confused, before Rosita tried it again. For the second time, nothing happened.

Without being signaled, the Scavengers raised their guns all at once, turning on us. I sidestepped to put myself in front of Clary, shielding her from the Scavenger in front of us, like there weren't two more aiming at her from behind.

The lock on the gate clicked, a Scavenger opening it from outside and revealing us to the Saviors. The door of one of the trucks opened, Dwight climbing out alongside a man with a baseball bat.

Clary leaned out around me, looking out at the approaching Saviors. "That's him," she whispered to me. "That's Negan, and the bat's Lucille."

Negan joined Eugene on the back of the truck, the bat on his shoulder as he asked, "You ever hear the one about the stupid little prick named Rick who thought he knew shit but didn't know shit and got everyone he gave a shit about killed?" Negan pointed to Rick up on the wall. "It's about you."

Stark returned, "You ever hear the one about the guy who brought a baseball bat to a gunfight, asshole?"

"Well, that's not very nice, Mr. Stark," Negan sighed. "Y'all are gonna wanna put your guns down now."

"No one drops anything," Steve decided.

Rick looked to Jadis, the leader of the Scavengers, staring down the barrel of her gun. "We had a deal."

"Tamiel came for the boat things," Jadis replied. "Followed ones who took. Made a better deal."

"You push me and you push me," Negan sighed. "You tried to blow us up, right? I mean, I get me, my people. But Eugene? He's one of yours."

"He's not," Clary returned. "He's a traitor."

"Why, my dear Executioner! Your 'friends' could say the same about you. You willingly came to my side."

Eyes and guns went to Clary as she stepped around me, facing Negan. "You wanted Bucky. I did what I had to so he'd be free. Even if that meant following you. But I _never_ wanted to kill the people I love."

"And yet you did. You people… are animals. Universe gives you a sign, and you just—" Negan stuck his middle finger up. "—shove your finger right up its ass! Dwight, Simon, chop-chop."

I watched Dwight as he and Simon joined the others on the truck bed, unhooking something in the back. They pulled the cloth off of it, revealing a coffin. They wheeled it to the middle, sitting it up so it stood on its end. Negan stepped forward to stand beside it.

"So, you don't like Eugene anymore," Negan said. "You guys gotta like Sasha. I do, too." Negan raised Lucille, knocking on the outside of the coffin; and I realized that Sasha's in there. "Got her right here, packaged for your convenience, alive and well. Now, I brought her so I wouldn't have to kill all of you, and not killing all of you could get complicated. See, I know there's a lot of firepower in there, Rick. So I'm gonna make this simple. I want all the guns you've managed to scrape up. Yup, I know about those, too. I want every last grain of lemonade you've got left. I want a person of your own choosing for Lucille. And Daryl… oh, I gotta get me my Daryl back. I see you. Oh, and my dear Executioner, you're coming with me. And I'm never letting you leave me again! And the pool table, and all the pool cues and chalk. And I want it now, or Sasha dies, and then all of you. Probably. C'mon, Rick. Just 'cause I brought her in a casket doesn't mean she has to leave in it."

Rick didn't move.

"You know what?" Negan questioned. "You suck ass, Rick. You really do. I don't want to have to kill her, but that's exactly what you're gonna make me do."

"Let me see her," Rick demanded.

"Alright. Just give me a second. I might have to get her up to speed. You can't hear shit inside this thing." He knocked on the casket with Lucille again. "Sash. You're not gonna believe this crap!"

I heard the growling the second Negan opened the casket, and I instantly knew everything that he said was a lie. "Holy goddamn!" Negan shouted, backing up as the walker that was once Sasha attacked him.

Negan fell backwards off the truck, Sasha going with him. Carl spun, firing the first shot into a Scavenger's kneecap before shooting him in the head. Another Scavenger that had his gun on Carl went to fire, but Steve was faster. He threw his shield, striking the Scavenger before he could shoot Carl. Carl picked up the shield, using it to fight his way down from the watchpost as Steve made his way over to him.

I spun, throwing my knife and embedding it in the head of one of the Scavengers that had her gun on Clary and I. We took cover behind one of the cars as the Saviors rushed the gate, firing on anything that moved. We hid until they had passed before taking off in a safer direction. We passed by Steve and Carl as they fought side by side against the Saviors and Scavengers, tossing the shield back and forth between them. Clary fired on the last Scavenger, and she dropped, creating an opening for Steve and Carl to run.

"Go!" Steve barked at Carl. "I'll hold the gate! You go!"

"Take the shield!" Carl replied, tossing it back to him before taking off. Carl was ahead of us, disappearing around the corner of a house as we followed a ways behind. There were shouts from the other side of the house as we approached, and I pulled Clary back as a duo of Saviors dragged a fighting Carl between them towards the lake, where I could see Negan waiting.

"Shit, they have Carl," Clary hissed.

I flinched as I felt a gun being pressed into my shoulder, telling her, "They have us, too."

I raised my hands as Clary spun, and I didn't appreciate the second Savior sticking a gun directly in her face. They weren't going to kill us—if they were, they wouldn't have come right up to us. They would've just shot us from a safe distance. There was no choice but to do what they wanted.

Without a word, the Saviors pushed us together, walking us with their guns still aimed at us as they looked straight ahead. We took the same path, following behind the ones that had Carl as they took us towards Negan.

I took Clary's hand, not looking at her as I pulled her back from the Saviors. False copies of ourselves continued on with the Saviors. Clary looked at me in amazement, and I held a finger to my lips, signalling for her to keep quiet. I gestured for her to follow with a jerk of my head. We ran for the gate, hoping to meet up with Steve and get his help freeing Carl. Steve had disappeared from the gate, but by the trail of Saviors and Scavenges lying on the ground with blunt force trauma from a large, mostly flat object, I'd say that he had to leave his post and fought through them. We reached the gate, only to scramble back when an orange beast charged through.

"Odin's beard," I said, while Clary laughed, "Shiva! Yes!"

An army followed behind the Shiva beast, Clary shaking hands with a woman with grey hair. "Carol, it's good you're here."

"Looks like you're needing the help," she remarked.

"There _might_ be a few more than expected," Clary said, then greeted a man with dreads. "It's good to see you, King Ezekiel."

A number of folks on horses rode by, one man sliding off his horse to fight on foot. I took the reins, climbing onto the horse. Clary turned as Ezekiel pushed on, stopping when she saw me. She stated, "You're on a horse."

"We used to fight with them on Asgard," I told her.

"Alright, we'll send in the cavalry. I'm gonna go make myself useful and kill some people. You do you, Loki. You do you."

Clary closed the gate, and Carol questioned, "What're you doing?! You just locked us in with them!"

"No," Clary said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "I locked _them_ in with _us._"

* * *

_**~Clary~**_

"Okay," Negan said, rising from his spot in front of Rick. He sauntered towards Carl, tossing his hat off over his shoulder. "You said I could do it."

He started to swing Lucille, but as the bat made her descent, Shiva let out a roar. She launched forward, attacking a Savior close to Negan. "Christ on a fucking cracker!" Negan shouted, spinning away from Carl at the sight of Shiva tearing into one of his men.

Dwight and Simon covered Negan as he scrambled back from the tiger, Ezekiel leading the Kingdom into the fray. I followed at his side, a gun in one hand and knife in the other. "End these Saviors and their accomplices!" Ezekiel ordered. "Alexandria will not fall, not on this day!"

Loki followed closely behind the Kingdom's fighters as they chased Saviors throughout Alexandria, announcing, "Your savior has arrived!"

I sighed, shaking my head as I turned and punched an approaching Scavenger. "What a drama queen," I said as I stabbed those dumb enough to oppose us. "Remind me why I saved his ass again?"

"Beats me," Nat said, tossing me another gun. We went back to back, wielding two guns each, firing on Saviors and Scavengers alike.

I shouted to her, "Hey, you know what I just realized?"

"What?" Nat questioned.

"That you used to be one of the bad guys, too. You should join my team!"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Unfortunately, I've never been thought dead. Sorry, don't meet the qualifications."

"Bummer!"

Nat cried out a moment after a bullet ricocheted off my shoulder. I spun around, finding Nat clutching her arm, blood flowing between her fingers. I fired at the Savior that shot her, killing him.

"Shit," Nat panted. "I've been shot before, but this is…"

"A lot of blood," I finished. "You trust me, Nat?" She nodded. "Good. Just hold on."

I hoisted Nat over my shoulder, keeping one hand free to take out any threats. I holstered my gun when I ran out of bullets, using the red handled machete instead. A Scavenger rushed us, I swung it, and his head dropped a foot away from his body. I reached the infirmary, but there was another Scavenger waiting for us on the porch. With a grunt, I decapitated and killed the Scavenger.

"Nat!" I heard Aaron shout behind me.

"Aaron!" I called. "Thor, Jerry!"

The trio ran over, covering me as I carried Nat into the infirmary. I put her down on the bed, blood from her wound dripping across the floor and smearing on the both of us. "Aaron, she needs help," I told him. "I don't know what to do."

"Go, then," Aaron told me. "I've got Nat. You chase those bastards out. This is our town."

"Ain't nobody takin' it," I replied, sharing a grin with Aaron when he realized that I still remembered that night we fought to take Alexandria back from the dead. I stepped back, allowing Aaron to take over. "Thor, Jerry, watch their backs. Defend this place until it's over."

The two nodded, Thor looking like he wasn't planning on leaving Nat's side anyway. When I exited the infirmary, my attention was drawn to a flare fired from within the walls. A second later, a grenade landed on the porch in front of me. I didn't have time to get away, only time to turn away. Arms were wrapped around me, a shield covering our backs. Steve and I looked at each other when it didn't blow, instead smoke clouding around us.

"They're covering themselves," Steve said.

"But they're running," I replied.

"C'mon," Steve said, pulling me along beside me. He kept his shield up between us, raising it when someone fired on us from within the smoke. I fired blindly into the smoke around it before I saw the person that shot at us climbing the wall. I shifted my aim, watching them fall. "We gotta find the others!"

Steve and I regrouped with Rick and Ezekiel, alongside a handful of others from all the communities, at the RV. "Keep your eyes on the walls," I said. "They're getting out any way they can."

"Now we finish this!" Ezekiel declared. He led the way to the gate, the rest of us following beside him as we chased the Saviors and Scavengers out. We scattered at Scavengers opened fire on us from where they stood atop the garbage truck parked adjacent to the wall. Bucky and I kept pushing, though, turning our guns on them. In the time that it took for one of them to close the gate, we managed to take down a little over half of the ones on the wall. The remaining Scavengers scrambled over, escaping us.

"Now!" Daryl shouted.

Pietro, Ezekiel, Morgan, Bucky, and Stark ran to the gate, trying to open it. I ran for the garbage truck, climbing it. Daryl followed me, and I reached down, offering him my metal hand. He took it, and I pulled him the rest of the way up with me. "Jesus, that thing's strong," he said.

"Silver lining, I guess," I replied with a shrug, turning to the land beyond the wall. "Huh. Would ya look at that?"

"They're gone," Daryl observed. "You know what this means, right?"

"Yeah." I leaned forward, looking down. "Oh, no wonder they can't get the gate opened. They got a lock on it from the outside. Hey, cover me, Darry."

I jumped down from the wall, studying the lock on the gate. After a moment, I decided on just ripping it off rather than trying to unlock it. I rolled the gate open from the outside, those inside starting to raise their guns on me.

"Whoa, hey, friendly," I quickly said, raising a hand in surrender. "They ran. We won."

* * *

_**~Bucky~**_

Rick, Ezekiel, and Maggie, the main leaders of each of the communities in our alliance, gathered us in Alexandria following the battle. They made the alliance known to all, made the fact that we were going to war completely official, and making it known that this battle wasn't just a one-time thing. There was more to come.

Rick was getting ready to dismiss us when a voice from the crowd spoke up. Clary asked, "Rick, can I say something?"

He nodded, and Clary joined them on the platform, standing before us all.

"You've already won one battle," she said. "One battle doesn't always determine a war, but sometimes it does. What happened today is a precursor to the rest of this war. Negan and his Saviors will run from us with their tails between their legs! We _will_ win this war, if today was _any_ indication of what's to come!"

Someone in the crowd asked, "How can you be so sure?"

Clary looked down into the crowd, grey eyes meeting blue. She never looked away from Steve Rogers as she answered, "Because demons run when a good man goes to war."


End file.
